How do I begin to journal again after such a very long pause? ... After such criticism on my recording choices by Clifford? ... After such self doubt?!
I've always wanted to write my book. I've never gotten very far... Am I still young at 32? Is there still hope for all my endeavors?
1inFour.ca has potential, really real potential... will it carry me into the life I am meant to lead... or is it pulling me on a path I can't possibly agree with? I have excitement and also fear. I suppose a balance is healthy, but I want so very much more from this life. Is that so very wrong?
I AM LONELY! (I miss Matt lately, but he never hears me calling... or at least never responds.)
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
Reason's got nothing to do with it!
When we put socks on in the morning, our feet send a message, via our
nervous system, to our brain to let it know that it feels the cloth on
our skin. But then the brain does an amazing thing -- it forgets about
them! OR rather, it assesses the information, looking for signs of
action (is there pain, heat, etc) sees that there is none, and discards
the information -- in essence, puts a block over it and turns it into a
"white" sensation (like white noise)... otherwise, all day long, our
brain would be listening to the feet saying "I'm wearing socks!... I'm
wearing socks!"
If you've ever had a hole in your sock, you know exactly how this system can fail ... all day, you are squirming your toes around, trying to get that hole into a position where your brain will forget about it... or if you have a pebble or other dirt in your shoe, the same failure occurs -- you are trying to focus on walking and not bumping into people, but your darn foot keeps telling your brain "there's something wrong here!"
... this is what my daughter goes through every time she simply puts on her socks.
She does not have an "official diagnosis" yet, but from the vast amount of reading I have done, and from knowing her as well as I do (I'm a single mom, with an only child... we have spent a LOT of time together!) I am more than certain she has a condition called SPD (sensory processing disorder).
She puts on her socks and if they are not the right kind, in the right place, and arranged exactly so on her feet, ankles and legs ... she can have a melt-down. And next comes the shoes.... they complicate matters again. We often buy shoes 1 to 2 sizes too big, in order to avoid constant battles.
Because believe me -- they were CONSTANT until I learned about this condition. Knowledge is power. I have been able to work with her and come up with plans of action that help lessen the conflict, and actually let us get to school on time in the morning. Some mornings, anyhow -- and some is better than none... we're taking steps in the right direction!
My daughter is 8 and she is aware of how this condition has caused problems for her. In fact, this summer she developed a process to avoid the daily fight about shirts -- she recognized that putting a shirt on made her feel too warm and icky (even though we have central air, and it was often colder in the apartment than I liked!) ... so she decided, after many days of grabbing an ice pack from the freezer to cool herself down, she would simply wrap her t-shirt around the ice pack and put it back into the freezer, while she did the rest of her morning routine... and then let her shirt be the last thing she put on before we left the house. This has been a life-saving solution for us! We've avoided many shouting matches and meltdowns (because believe me, some mornings, SHE is not the only one having a meltdown!!)
Once, she was having a rough time getting her socks (which were the RIGHT kind) and her shoes (which were her favourite ones, that she KNOWS she likes) into the correct spot... after many frustrating on-again-off-again attempts, she put them on, jumped up and opened the front door, saying "C'mon mommy, lets just GO, 'cause once I'm out of the house I wont be able to change them AGAIN!" She is very apt and very smart and no matter how much she wants this stuff to be a part of her younger self's past, it simply is out of her control.
When explaining these scenarios to an adult friend, who is an educated ECE worker, the friend of mine said "But she realizes she is the one being unreasonable, right?" .... and my heart broke. My daughter is not being unreasonable... she has a diagnosable condition that, while has potential to get better with some therapeutic help, has nothing at all to do with REASON. It is about the way her brain processes the information and either turns it into that "white" sensation or not. In her case, it takes MUCH longer to happen. I said to the friend "If a person is in a wheelchair, cannot stand, and there is something on a high shelf out of their reach, if they do not get it, are they being unreasonable?? No, of course not -- it is not something they can do. It is outside of their ability. It has nothing to do with reason."
We have had days where I literally force her into a pair of tights, open the door and deposit her and her shoes and coat and school bag into the hallway, she full of tears, me full of anger born of frustration.... and spent the rest of the day full of guilt for sending her off to school after a morning like that... only to have this smiling girl come home, hug me, apologize for her attitude in the morning, and ask if we can please buy more pairs of tights like these because she simply loves them... !!!! there are no words for how I feel at that moment. It doesn't make any sense. We simply go with what we know. We buy the clothes that work for her (tights, but not yoga-pants because there is too much at the waist ... no jeans or other pants with buttons, again, too much bulk at the waist .... socks with no strings inside -- so no designs.... of a certain height, but not tubes, must have specific heels ..... shoes too big ... t-shirts must have ALL tags cut out .. long-sleeves are totally hit and miss .... etc etc etc) And if something doesn't work, it goes out right away.
As things in our life settle into a good routine, I have every intention of taking her to get an official diagnosis and have someone talk with her about how to better control her frustrations and anxieties around these issues... but for now, the information I have about SPD has allowed me to have much more patience with my little girl and has allowed us both to avoid fighting the inevitable....
(and yes, she exhibits other signs of SPD... just not writing about them here right now!!)
If you've ever had a hole in your sock, you know exactly how this system can fail ... all day, you are squirming your toes around, trying to get that hole into a position where your brain will forget about it... or if you have a pebble or other dirt in your shoe, the same failure occurs -- you are trying to focus on walking and not bumping into people, but your darn foot keeps telling your brain "there's something wrong here!"
... this is what my daughter goes through every time she simply puts on her socks.
She does not have an "official diagnosis" yet, but from the vast amount of reading I have done, and from knowing her as well as I do (I'm a single mom, with an only child... we have spent a LOT of time together!) I am more than certain she has a condition called SPD (sensory processing disorder).
She puts on her socks and if they are not the right kind, in the right place, and arranged exactly so on her feet, ankles and legs ... she can have a melt-down. And next comes the shoes.... they complicate matters again. We often buy shoes 1 to 2 sizes too big, in order to avoid constant battles.
Because believe me -- they were CONSTANT until I learned about this condition. Knowledge is power. I have been able to work with her and come up with plans of action that help lessen the conflict, and actually let us get to school on time in the morning. Some mornings, anyhow -- and some is better than none... we're taking steps in the right direction!
My daughter is 8 and she is aware of how this condition has caused problems for her. In fact, this summer she developed a process to avoid the daily fight about shirts -- she recognized that putting a shirt on made her feel too warm and icky (even though we have central air, and it was often colder in the apartment than I liked!) ... so she decided, after many days of grabbing an ice pack from the freezer to cool herself down, she would simply wrap her t-shirt around the ice pack and put it back into the freezer, while she did the rest of her morning routine... and then let her shirt be the last thing she put on before we left the house. This has been a life-saving solution for us! We've avoided many shouting matches and meltdowns (because believe me, some mornings, SHE is not the only one having a meltdown!!)
Once, she was having a rough time getting her socks (which were the RIGHT kind) and her shoes (which were her favourite ones, that she KNOWS she likes) into the correct spot... after many frustrating on-again-off-again attempts, she put them on, jumped up and opened the front door, saying "C'mon mommy, lets just GO, 'cause once I'm out of the house I wont be able to change them AGAIN!" She is very apt and very smart and no matter how much she wants this stuff to be a part of her younger self's past, it simply is out of her control.
When explaining these scenarios to an adult friend, who is an educated ECE worker, the friend of mine said "But she realizes she is the one being unreasonable, right?" .... and my heart broke. My daughter is not being unreasonable... she has a diagnosable condition that, while has potential to get better with some therapeutic help, has nothing at all to do with REASON. It is about the way her brain processes the information and either turns it into that "white" sensation or not. In her case, it takes MUCH longer to happen. I said to the friend "If a person is in a wheelchair, cannot stand, and there is something on a high shelf out of their reach, if they do not get it, are they being unreasonable?? No, of course not -- it is not something they can do. It is outside of their ability. It has nothing to do with reason."
We have had days where I literally force her into a pair of tights, open the door and deposit her and her shoes and coat and school bag into the hallway, she full of tears, me full of anger born of frustration.... and spent the rest of the day full of guilt for sending her off to school after a morning like that... only to have this smiling girl come home, hug me, apologize for her attitude in the morning, and ask if we can please buy more pairs of tights like these because she simply loves them... !!!! there are no words for how I feel at that moment. It doesn't make any sense. We simply go with what we know. We buy the clothes that work for her (tights, but not yoga-pants because there is too much at the waist ... no jeans or other pants with buttons, again, too much bulk at the waist .... socks with no strings inside -- so no designs.... of a certain height, but not tubes, must have specific heels ..... shoes too big ... t-shirts must have ALL tags cut out .. long-sleeves are totally hit and miss .... etc etc etc) And if something doesn't work, it goes out right away.
As things in our life settle into a good routine, I have every intention of taking her to get an official diagnosis and have someone talk with her about how to better control her frustrations and anxieties around these issues... but for now, the information I have about SPD has allowed me to have much more patience with my little girl and has allowed us both to avoid fighting the inevitable....
(and yes, she exhibits other signs of SPD... just not writing about them here right now!!)
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
1in4: The upside to down.
We often talk about how domestic violence isolates. It does. This
post is not about that. I’d like to flip the focus and look at another
aspect of post-trauma, a place where survival has moved into survivor
and struggle has changed to strength…
For those still in the midst of domestic violence, or for those in the early steps of fleeing to safety, this post is intended to offer hope. For those who are closer to where I am along my journey, I can only hope you have been fortunate enough to experience similar positive aspects. If you’re not there yet — I invite you to make steps to be where you want to be.
It isn’t that often in this life that we are given the opportunity to start over — to reinvent ourselves. Sure, all those lovely quotes we see pasted all over Facebook talk about ‘if you’re not happy, then do something about it’ … and ‘live the life you were born to live’ … and while I’m all for their sappy sentiment, the reality is, in North America (as I imagine in much of the world) it is a struggle just to get by… to put one foot in front of the other and face the ever-present nowness of life. The bills need to be paid, the kids need to be fed, the groceries bought, this kid to the dentist, that kid to dance class, the kitty litter changed, the garbage to the curb, the health-card renewed, taxes filed, laundry done…. and lather, rinse, repeat Ad infinitum [the Latin phrase meaning "to infinity"] When in the midst of all this, is there TIME to stop and reinvent yourself? To take that night class that will better your degree and change your pay scale… to decide on an entire new path for your career… to change your perspective and change your potential takes TIME and the patience and understanding of those who support you in your life.
Well let me tell you — fleeing domestic violence and losing everything you own in the process… having to walk away from your job in order to take care of yourself or your children; when the pieces finally settle, the court battle has wound down and you no longer feel in crisis — this is where you will find some time and if you are lucky, your support-networks will be understanding — if you are not so lucky, then you will be building new support networks from within the service agencies connected to supporting survivors of domestic violence here in Hamilton (or whatever town you happen to call home).
Nothing I’m saying is advocating domestic violence as a positive aspect for changing your life — I am simply taking a different view of the other side, the place you get to where you have to put all the pieces back together. Those pieces don’t have to look the same way they did before they broke. There’s a quote (from one of those silly Facebook images!) I read once, that says “If you carry the bricks from your past relationships to the new one, you will build the same house.” The opportunity available to you on the other side of healing, is that you can take this time to reevaluate your needs and your wants in this world. This is a chance to go forward from a new perspective into the life you really want to be living.
If you were running yourself ragged 9-5 at a job you didn’t enjoy, maybe now is the time to take that class you needed to upgrade your skill set and change your career.
If you weren’t connecting with your kids in a way that felt meaningful, maybe now is the time to do some counseling together, or plan a routine that involves more face-time together, including sit-down dinners or family games nights.
If you didn’t have space for your passions or hobbies before, maybe now is when you make that part of the must-haves in your new housing search. [This is one I did -- I make jewellery but had always been unpacking materials from a Rubbermaid bin to use, and packing it all back up after each session... now I have it spread out across a table in my bedroom so I can just pop over and make a piece any time the mood arises... I couldn't even begin to express how wonderful this has been! I have a friend who is planning a garden in her new place, because she misses getting her fingers dirty and enjoying the fruits of her labour afterwards.]
If you didn’t get enough exercise or fresh air in your rushed lifestyle before, now is the time to get involved in the Wellness programs available to women, through Good Shepherd or the YWCA or any number of organizations. Take the opportunity to get together for a quick bite with the new supports you’ll make through survivors groups (or through the Forum here!) and plan to attend a Yoga group together, or a public swim with the kids.
Find your own “If”‘s and discover the freedom to do it differently.
This is your life. Domestic violence is a crazy wake-up call. The only time we have is now. Rather than drown in the sorrows and losses from the past — reach out and grab a hold of your future — you can change it up any way you want to and be excited about the possibilities. Remember, you may be down, but you’re not out!
For those still in the midst of domestic violence, or for those in the early steps of fleeing to safety, this post is intended to offer hope. For those who are closer to where I am along my journey, I can only hope you have been fortunate enough to experience similar positive aspects. If you’re not there yet — I invite you to make steps to be where you want to be.
It isn’t that often in this life that we are given the opportunity to start over — to reinvent ourselves. Sure, all those lovely quotes we see pasted all over Facebook talk about ‘if you’re not happy, then do something about it’ … and ‘live the life you were born to live’ … and while I’m all for their sappy sentiment, the reality is, in North America (as I imagine in much of the world) it is a struggle just to get by… to put one foot in front of the other and face the ever-present nowness of life. The bills need to be paid, the kids need to be fed, the groceries bought, this kid to the dentist, that kid to dance class, the kitty litter changed, the garbage to the curb, the health-card renewed, taxes filed, laundry done…. and lather, rinse, repeat Ad infinitum [the Latin phrase meaning "to infinity"] When in the midst of all this, is there TIME to stop and reinvent yourself? To take that night class that will better your degree and change your pay scale… to decide on an entire new path for your career… to change your perspective and change your potential takes TIME and the patience and understanding of those who support you in your life.
Well let me tell you — fleeing domestic violence and losing everything you own in the process… having to walk away from your job in order to take care of yourself or your children; when the pieces finally settle, the court battle has wound down and you no longer feel in crisis — this is where you will find some time and if you are lucky, your support-networks will be understanding — if you are not so lucky, then you will be building new support networks from within the service agencies connected to supporting survivors of domestic violence here in Hamilton (or whatever town you happen to call home).
Nothing I’m saying is advocating domestic violence as a positive aspect for changing your life — I am simply taking a different view of the other side, the place you get to where you have to put all the pieces back together. Those pieces don’t have to look the same way they did before they broke. There’s a quote (from one of those silly Facebook images!) I read once, that says “If you carry the bricks from your past relationships to the new one, you will build the same house.” The opportunity available to you on the other side of healing, is that you can take this time to reevaluate your needs and your wants in this world. This is a chance to go forward from a new perspective into the life you really want to be living.
If you were running yourself ragged 9-5 at a job you didn’t enjoy, maybe now is the time to take that class you needed to upgrade your skill set and change your career.
If you weren’t connecting with your kids in a way that felt meaningful, maybe now is the time to do some counseling together, or plan a routine that involves more face-time together, including sit-down dinners or family games nights.
If you didn’t have space for your passions or hobbies before, maybe now is when you make that part of the must-haves in your new housing search. [This is one I did -- I make jewellery but had always been unpacking materials from a Rubbermaid bin to use, and packing it all back up after each session... now I have it spread out across a table in my bedroom so I can just pop over and make a piece any time the mood arises... I couldn't even begin to express how wonderful this has been! I have a friend who is planning a garden in her new place, because she misses getting her fingers dirty and enjoying the fruits of her labour afterwards.]
If you didn’t get enough exercise or fresh air in your rushed lifestyle before, now is the time to get involved in the Wellness programs available to women, through Good Shepherd or the YWCA or any number of organizations. Take the opportunity to get together for a quick bite with the new supports you’ll make through survivors groups (or through the Forum here!) and plan to attend a Yoga group together, or a public swim with the kids.
Find your own “If”‘s and discover the freedom to do it differently.
This is your life. Domestic violence is a crazy wake-up call. The only time we have is now. Rather than drown in the sorrows and losses from the past — reach out and grab a hold of your future — you can change it up any way you want to and be excited about the possibilities. Remember, you may be down, but you’re not out!
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
1in4: Dark days...
We try to focus on the positive here at 1 in Four. Although we touch
on some very dark topics, because domestic violence is just that — dark,
we attempt to bring the light into them and talk about the hope and the
survival after the fact.
But what about the darks days? Because there will be dark days. There will be days of numbness; those will not be the dark days. There will be days of stuffing, where you simply disassociate and focus on the present; those will not be the dark days…. There will be days where you want to go back, because even though things were terrible, at least they were a KNOWN and any known must be better than this strange, impossible unknown; these too, will not be the dark days….
There will be days when you are fighting just to stay alive — you have a looming court case facing you, whether it deals with charges against your ex partner, or a child custody hearing… you have to ask your friends, neighbours or even co-workers to fill out affidavits about incidents that they witnessed, or simply to provide a character reference… you swallow your pride and take that step forward in courage, hoping that things turn out for the best, all the while still providing for your children or taking care of yourself — these, these will be good days, compared to the dark days.
I cannot fully describe the dark days to you, because they will be different for every individual. For myself, much of them revolved around my daughter — was I doing the best thing for her? How could I, this broken human being, possibly be the right one to raise her? I cried in the shower every day, and I slept for countless hours when she wasn’t with me, drawing the blinds and shutting out the sun… I didn’t eat well, I didn’t drink enough water, I sank further into depression and I was uninterested in therapeutic medication… my dark days were lucky enough not to involve substance abuse — but not everyone has the past that I have, to keep them from such outlets.
The dark days will seem like they are going to swallow you alive from the inside out. I can’t imagine how I would have gotten through if my daughter’s needs didn’t out-weigh my own selfish destruction. She had to be fed three times a day, and bathed, and sent to school on time and picked up …. and for a while I was simply going through the motions — but she also had to be loved, and cherished, and enjoyed and cuddled and played with and nourished and read to and stimulated and taken to the park … She was what pulled me from those depths.
In the end, I had to WANT to be present to participate in the life around me. I had to WANT to be strong in the face of all that would pull me down. For our situation, it was routine that worked best. Having a set schedule of things that needed to be done and sticking to it. I filled my days, while she was at school, with groups and appointments — things that would guarantee getting me out of the house, so that I couldn’t lock myself away and sink back into depression. I got a library card! I attended group discussions, I went swimming at the YWCA, I joined an art group… I had a therapist, and a psychiatrist and a local counsellor — so that I could see at least someone once a week to keep me in check. I built myself a support network and most importantly, I was HONEST with them… I told them how far I had sunk, I told them I was depressed… I let them know that I was still taking care of my little girl, that I was having more of a hard time taking care of myself — I’d shower, and do the laundry, but making myself eat wasn’t always easy…. I knew that I wasn’t a threat to her, so I knew that I wasn’t going to lose her… but I also knew that I couldn’t get myself healthy if I wasn’t willing to be honest about the help and support I needed.
Domestic violence stole my courage and my self respect and my sense of decency in fellow human beings. I felt crushed and alone and dirty. I couldn’t understand how anyone was ever going to love me again.
With time, and healing, I learned that it was more important for me to love myself. I learned that I had a voice and if I used it, I could find my way back to courage. I learned self-reliance and self-esteem. I discovered friendships that were built on trust and mutual understanding.
I guess, even though there will be those dark days, and even though I still have dark moments… the very truth of it is, with time, all these posts WILL be positive, because that is the life of a survivor — you learn that you will not tolerate abuse in your life and you find the path that leads to a healthier lifestyle than maybe you ever thought possible. The dark days cannot steal your voice; use it, let yourself be heard. Ask for the help you need, the help you deserve.
But what about the darks days? Because there will be dark days. There will be days of numbness; those will not be the dark days. There will be days of stuffing, where you simply disassociate and focus on the present; those will not be the dark days…. There will be days where you want to go back, because even though things were terrible, at least they were a KNOWN and any known must be better than this strange, impossible unknown; these too, will not be the dark days….
There will be days when you are fighting just to stay alive — you have a looming court case facing you, whether it deals with charges against your ex partner, or a child custody hearing… you have to ask your friends, neighbours or even co-workers to fill out affidavits about incidents that they witnessed, or simply to provide a character reference… you swallow your pride and take that step forward in courage, hoping that things turn out for the best, all the while still providing for your children or taking care of yourself — these, these will be good days, compared to the dark days.
I cannot fully describe the dark days to you, because they will be different for every individual. For myself, much of them revolved around my daughter — was I doing the best thing for her? How could I, this broken human being, possibly be the right one to raise her? I cried in the shower every day, and I slept for countless hours when she wasn’t with me, drawing the blinds and shutting out the sun… I didn’t eat well, I didn’t drink enough water, I sank further into depression and I was uninterested in therapeutic medication… my dark days were lucky enough not to involve substance abuse — but not everyone has the past that I have, to keep them from such outlets.
The dark days will seem like they are going to swallow you alive from the inside out. I can’t imagine how I would have gotten through if my daughter’s needs didn’t out-weigh my own selfish destruction. She had to be fed three times a day, and bathed, and sent to school on time and picked up …. and for a while I was simply going through the motions — but she also had to be loved, and cherished, and enjoyed and cuddled and played with and nourished and read to and stimulated and taken to the park … She was what pulled me from those depths.
In the end, I had to WANT to be present to participate in the life around me. I had to WANT to be strong in the face of all that would pull me down. For our situation, it was routine that worked best. Having a set schedule of things that needed to be done and sticking to it. I filled my days, while she was at school, with groups and appointments — things that would guarantee getting me out of the house, so that I couldn’t lock myself away and sink back into depression. I got a library card! I attended group discussions, I went swimming at the YWCA, I joined an art group… I had a therapist, and a psychiatrist and a local counsellor — so that I could see at least someone once a week to keep me in check. I built myself a support network and most importantly, I was HONEST with them… I told them how far I had sunk, I told them I was depressed… I let them know that I was still taking care of my little girl, that I was having more of a hard time taking care of myself — I’d shower, and do the laundry, but making myself eat wasn’t always easy…. I knew that I wasn’t a threat to her, so I knew that I wasn’t going to lose her… but I also knew that I couldn’t get myself healthy if I wasn’t willing to be honest about the help and support I needed.
Domestic violence stole my courage and my self respect and my sense of decency in fellow human beings. I felt crushed and alone and dirty. I couldn’t understand how anyone was ever going to love me again.
With time, and healing, I learned that it was more important for me to love myself. I learned that I had a voice and if I used it, I could find my way back to courage. I learned self-reliance and self-esteem. I discovered friendships that were built on trust and mutual understanding.
I guess, even though there will be those dark days, and even though I still have dark moments… the very truth of it is, with time, all these posts WILL be positive, because that is the life of a survivor — you learn that you will not tolerate abuse in your life and you find the path that leads to a healthier lifestyle than maybe you ever thought possible. The dark days cannot steal your voice; use it, let yourself be heard. Ask for the help you need, the help you deserve.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
1in4: Where to turn?
When I was going through my most abusive relationship (the most
recent one counts somewhere on the spectrum, but I usually don’t refer
to it that way, it’s too fresh and I still hold too much shame for
knowing better and staying anyways) back in ’02-’05… I already had a lot
of supports in place. I have always been close with my mother and my
sister (except during this relationship — if nothing else, THIS fact
should have been a strong indicator to me that all was not right! Going
weeks at a time without seeing or even speaking to my family is a
strange occurrence for us, and this became the norm inside this abusive
relationship.) On top of that I had been seeing a psychiatrist (who, as
it turned out, I was lying to because of my abusive partner! Not
good!) … plus I had another worker through the Community Mental Health
Clinic, who had been seeing me for the previous year. And once I had my
daughter, I was involved with a Public Health Nurse, and an advisor
through a Healthy Babies program, under the CAS umbrella network…When things finally came to a crux (you can read about some of my story in the Forums) and I left… it was after calling on many of these supports to get good advice and answers to some really tough questions. I had just decided to go to University… my entire life was already in flux… and it was very easy for me to pack up and move out of town.
But most women are not in this position. Many women are living in isolation — isolation usually created by their abuser. If you don’t have supports, you can’t talk about the abuse, and if you don’t have anyone else with whom to discuss what goes on behind closed doors, it is much easier for an abuser to paint a picture where you are to blame; where your actions brought on your partners rage and perhaps, to top it all off, your abuser can suggest that you are really just mentally unhinged to begin with, so who is really at fault??
Breaking the silence is one of the most difficult stages in healing. Sometimes the abuse has gone on so long, you feel like no one will ever believe you — why are you complaining now, if you’ve been putting up with it so long? Or sometimes, there is shame associated with the truth. Saying the words, trying to explain how things weren’t always like this, how it was so slow and gradual at first… how you really love him and he says he’s sorry, and he says he wont do it again … and if maybe you could just learn not to set him off, things could be okay! You have so many plans for your life, for your future… if you break this relationship or this family apart, how can you ever forgive yourself? Because then it really will be your fault, right? Right?!
Wrong. I’m reluctant to use the term “dead wrong” here, but the very scary truth is, that those words could be the worst truth of all — domestic violence can escalate to murder. According to an article I just read on Metronews, “a woman is murdered by her spouse in Canada every six days, a stat derived from a federal government fact sheet, based on 2009 Statistics Canada data.”
So how do you do it? How do you break the silence? Whats the first step?? I can’t put words into your mouth — they have to be your own words. This has to be something you want. I am a survivor, but I am not yet your friend — I cannot give you advice, I can only share my story, share my knowledge, and hope that something I say will ring a chord within you and help you escape your suffering. What I can tell you is this: there is support out there to help you! There are wonderful agencies here in Hamilton (and I know there are in other cities as well) that know this system inside and out. You just need to pick up a phone and call.
I’m going to quote from the WAWG website here: “Safety planning is a top priority, whether you choose to remain in the home or leave. Making a safety plan involves identifying actions to increase your safety and that of your children [...] If you are in an abusive relationship, or thinking about leaving an abusive relationship, there are ways to increase your safety of loved ones and animals by creating a safety plan. There is no one type of safety plan for every situation. You can contact your local shelter, second stage service, or counselling service to develop a personalized safety plan.”
As you’ll see me say anywhere I can find to slip it in — stay safe; stay informed! You are worth it!
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
1in4: Home is where the heart is...
I love to host parties. I love having friends in my home, feeling
comfortable and relaxed… enjoying one another’s company, eating great
food, drinking some good wine and above all, laughter.
I have lived in this new home since June 2012. The number of parties I’ve hosted in the past 6 months hovers around 5 (maybe 6?) … the number of parties I hosted in the previous 9 years? 1. Yes, that is one… it was the year my daughter was two and I hosted a non-traditional Thanksgiving, making instead a favourite Hungarian chicken dish.
If I love hosting parties, why so few in such a long time you might ask?
For me, the answer is two-fold:
Domestic violence isolates in so many vast and varied ways. As a victim, your home is never a safe place. You never know when or where your abuser’s anger is going to strike — oh, you learn the warning signs right quick; you learn not to make loud noises in the morning, or never to run out of his favourite juice; or to always have dinner ready when he gets in; or to keep the children quiet when she is resting; or to come immediately when called, respond directly when spoken to, or be very, very quiet, unheard, make no unexpected motions, lest they take your abuser by surprise and enrage him/her. But inviting an unsuspecting friend into this scenario? One who doesn’t know all the rules? That just begs for disaster — and if the disaster doesn’t befall whilst this friend is visiting, it is almost certain to explode the moment the guest leaves.
I learned through two very abusive relationships — home is where privacy is expected and guests are never welcome.
The second aspect revolves around money. As a single mother on assistance, I could never before afford a place that was decent enough to invite friends into. In fact, for a year when my daughter was in the First Grade, we lived in a one-bedroom apartment. She had a wonderful loft bed that fit nicely above my queen-sized bed, and other than my dresser in one corner, the bedroom was essentially hers — full of toys and books and dress-up clothes. The small eat-in kitchen barely sat two at the table, so there would be no dinner parties — and the living room was just narrow enough to hold a couch across from a tv-console. It was home; we were happy together, we decorated and did crafts and enjoyed the time spent with just the two of us… but there would never be a place for guests and it was guaranteed to be a short-term rental, as my daughter grew into needing her own privacy and her own space.
As an aside, I often think I got into the second abusive relationship for all the wrong reasons. I wanted a partner and companionship, but I also wanted a real space to call home; I wanted to give my daughter more than she had and I couldn’t manage that on my meager income. I was looking for a second bread-winner, not just an equitable, loving co-parent…. ultimately, when he said he would “take care” of me, he was exhibiting the first signs of power and control. But then, when I was with him, finances got even more out of hand than when I had been on my own, so it entirely back-fired in more ways than one!
Now that I am in my own rent-geared-to-income apartment (a newly built apartment building at that!) with just my daughter and myself…. I can finally let my wings spread. This two-bedroom apartment is spacious and clean. I have responsible landlords whom I can depend upon. Finally I can play the music when I want, I can buy the foods that I want, I can invite whomever I want, whenever fits with my schedule… I have to answer to no one but myself. I can breathe deep and shout for joy as loudly as I like. I am not afraid every time I enter a room. I am not watching the clock to see when the next shift ends. Suddenly, the freedom, the relaxation, the amazing potential — it’s nearly enough to make one’s head spin. And I love it! For the first time in a very, very long time, I am relaxed inside my own front door. Having stable housing, and a safe home to live in can change your entire world. I will never advocate leaving your partner; that is a decision no one can make for you, it is one you must come to on your own. All I can do is share my own experiences and speak of where my life has brought me along my journey.
Right now, I am looking forward to the next time I will have the opportunity to invite my friends into my home for the evening, perhaps try out this new idea of a “progressive potluck dinner” … It seems like such a small desire, but to me it means everything. What do you want to do in your home?
I have lived in this new home since June 2012. The number of parties I’ve hosted in the past 6 months hovers around 5 (maybe 6?) … the number of parties I hosted in the previous 9 years? 1. Yes, that is one… it was the year my daughter was two and I hosted a non-traditional Thanksgiving, making instead a favourite Hungarian chicken dish.
If I love hosting parties, why so few in such a long time you might ask?
For me, the answer is two-fold:
Domestic violence isolates in so many vast and varied ways. As a victim, your home is never a safe place. You never know when or where your abuser’s anger is going to strike — oh, you learn the warning signs right quick; you learn not to make loud noises in the morning, or never to run out of his favourite juice; or to always have dinner ready when he gets in; or to keep the children quiet when she is resting; or to come immediately when called, respond directly when spoken to, or be very, very quiet, unheard, make no unexpected motions, lest they take your abuser by surprise and enrage him/her. But inviting an unsuspecting friend into this scenario? One who doesn’t know all the rules? That just begs for disaster — and if the disaster doesn’t befall whilst this friend is visiting, it is almost certain to explode the moment the guest leaves.
I learned through two very abusive relationships — home is where privacy is expected and guests are never welcome.
The second aspect revolves around money. As a single mother on assistance, I could never before afford a place that was decent enough to invite friends into. In fact, for a year when my daughter was in the First Grade, we lived in a one-bedroom apartment. She had a wonderful loft bed that fit nicely above my queen-sized bed, and other than my dresser in one corner, the bedroom was essentially hers — full of toys and books and dress-up clothes. The small eat-in kitchen barely sat two at the table, so there would be no dinner parties — and the living room was just narrow enough to hold a couch across from a tv-console. It was home; we were happy together, we decorated and did crafts and enjoyed the time spent with just the two of us… but there would never be a place for guests and it was guaranteed to be a short-term rental, as my daughter grew into needing her own privacy and her own space.
As an aside, I often think I got into the second abusive relationship for all the wrong reasons. I wanted a partner and companionship, but I also wanted a real space to call home; I wanted to give my daughter more than she had and I couldn’t manage that on my meager income. I was looking for a second bread-winner, not just an equitable, loving co-parent…. ultimately, when he said he would “take care” of me, he was exhibiting the first signs of power and control. But then, when I was with him, finances got even more out of hand than when I had been on my own, so it entirely back-fired in more ways than one!
Now that I am in my own rent-geared-to-income apartment (a newly built apartment building at that!) with just my daughter and myself…. I can finally let my wings spread. This two-bedroom apartment is spacious and clean. I have responsible landlords whom I can depend upon. Finally I can play the music when I want, I can buy the foods that I want, I can invite whomever I want, whenever fits with my schedule… I have to answer to no one but myself. I can breathe deep and shout for joy as loudly as I like. I am not afraid every time I enter a room. I am not watching the clock to see when the next shift ends. Suddenly, the freedom, the relaxation, the amazing potential — it’s nearly enough to make one’s head spin. And I love it! For the first time in a very, very long time, I am relaxed inside my own front door. Having stable housing, and a safe home to live in can change your entire world. I will never advocate leaving your partner; that is a decision no one can make for you, it is one you must come to on your own. All I can do is share my own experiences and speak of where my life has brought me along my journey.
Right now, I am looking forward to the next time I will have the opportunity to invite my friends into my home for the evening, perhaps try out this new idea of a “progressive potluck dinner” … It seems like such a small desire, but to me it means everything. What do you want to do in your home?
Friday, October 19, 2012
1in4: Self check-in
I’m going to diverge from the path a little here, and talk more in
generalities, rather than simply about domestic violence — sorry in
advance if I get a little long-winded. When things are going really
good or really bad, we often forget to do a realistic check-in, to
assess where things are at in our world. The over-imposing issue, the
really great thing(s) or really terrible problem(s) seem to be
all-consuming — it’s all we can focus on.
But if we were to pause and take stock we may find a more even balance from which to take the next step, without “going off half-cocked”. From the way I see it, there are four aspects of our life to look at:
Personal
This includes our relationships with family and friends, how do we connect with them; are they supportive or do they tax our strength?
Here we can look at our emotional/mental self, how are we handling the stressors in our life, have we sought supports to help with this, do we take time to journal or meditate… are we feeling our real emotions or are we practicing the negative coping mechanism of “stuffing” or “disassociating”?
Next is our physical self, are we eating properly, getting enough sleep, getting some exercise into our routine… I check to see if I am carrying stress in a particular spot, like the muscles in my shoulders — maybe it is time to get a massage or do some reiki (both options available through the Wellness program at Good Shepherd).
Professional
Again this includes relationships, such as with co-workers or a therapist, are we able to interact on an appropriate level with these individuals, are we avoiding them or do we see the benefit of these relationships?
Perhaps in your situation you are seeking to further your education or you are currently working a job/occupation or you are not working at all right now, whatever the case may be, here is where we can take a moment to assess how that is working out for us. I have been working two jobs and doing 1 in Four on the side, and recently took stock of my energy levels and realized that one of the jobs I was doing was depleting me entirely — it was a caustic environment and I came home feeling emotionally drained from the interactions I had during the day; I recognized that I felt no joy in the work I did especially in light of how passionate I am about being a part of building 1 in Four. I am in a position where I could speak to my boss and stratagize an exit plan that works best for the company as well as myself. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel like I can face tomorrow, rather than want to crawl back under the covers and hide from the world. The important part of a self check-in is to know that there are always options.
Physical
This part is about things like your housing, transportation, and even your physical location. Sometimes being on a fixed budget might make it seem like what you have is what you are stuck with, but with a little planning and research, this isn’t always the case.
Carpooling with co-workers some of the days of the week can help ease up on gas costs, vehicle wear-and-tear, and the stress of rush-hour driving… if you bus, you might be able to offer the same money to a friend to pick you up in the morning, if they are already going in the same direction… and maybe getting some bicycling or walking into your routine could help release some endorphins to give you that boost you need to your mood.
Moving isn’t always an easy or fun thing to do, but if your housing isn’t working for you, it is certainly an option and there are Transitional Support Workers through many of the agencies listed on our resources tab that can help you do a Pro’s and Con’s list, to see if this might be the right choice — if you aren’t happy or if it isn’t the right fit, why stay? I remember when my daughter was 2, I was living on the third floor of a walk-up and was developing bad knees. I was carrying too much of my own weight, plus often my daughter and groceries and any number of other items up and down those stairs. I spoke to my doctor, who sent me for X-rays and highly advised me to change my living situation to a main-floor apartment, or I would need new knees before I was 40. I’m in an apartment with an elevator now, and that makes a huge difference to the rest of the stress in my life, knowing I wont have to lug things up and down those three flights.
Philosophical
Rather than tack this into the ‘personal’ category, I feel it is important enough for its own spot. How our spiritual or religious well-being is at any given moment can be a make-it or break-it situation for just about anyone. You don’t have to be religious to feel spiritual about life. Sometimes we are aware that we aren’t living up to our true potential, we aren’t finding pleasure in anything we do, and we just don’t know what exactly isn’t working — this is a spiritual misalignment. Other times things are working out great! We feel on top of the world, as though everything we put our hand to seems to turn out golden — this is when we are fully in alignment! Checking in with how we see ourselves in our own world, how our path is going, is very important to know what next step to take. If we feel scattered and unsure of ourselves, then maybe we know it’s not a good time to make a big, life-changing decision. Maybe it’s better to wait until things are calmed down. This isn’t always the case for everyone, sometimes people flourish better within chaos and find it easier to make big decisions when everything else is already in flux — you know yourself best, but unless you check-in, you wont know at all!
A realistic review of the above aspects of our lives can help us see that maybe things aren’t as impossible as we originally thought, or maybe it is time for a change.
Remember, I’m not a therapist or a doctor or a life-coach. I am sharing these thoughts with you as a survivor reaching out to those in need. If you feel that you are ready to seek out specific support, there are amazing services available here in Hamilton (and if you are not local, I am sure there are some available in your community as well)… all you have to do is make that phone-call and they will walk you through the steps. If you feel you need help to manage any part of what is going on in your life, just know that you are worth it and you have the right to reach out and ask for it.
But if we were to pause and take stock we may find a more even balance from which to take the next step, without “going off half-cocked”. From the way I see it, there are four aspects of our life to look at:
Personal
This includes our relationships with family and friends, how do we connect with them; are they supportive or do they tax our strength?
Here we can look at our emotional/mental self, how are we handling the stressors in our life, have we sought supports to help with this, do we take time to journal or meditate… are we feeling our real emotions or are we practicing the negative coping mechanism of “stuffing” or “disassociating”?
Next is our physical self, are we eating properly, getting enough sleep, getting some exercise into our routine… I check to see if I am carrying stress in a particular spot, like the muscles in my shoulders — maybe it is time to get a massage or do some reiki (both options available through the Wellness program at Good Shepherd).
Professional
Again this includes relationships, such as with co-workers or a therapist, are we able to interact on an appropriate level with these individuals, are we avoiding them or do we see the benefit of these relationships?
Perhaps in your situation you are seeking to further your education or you are currently working a job/occupation or you are not working at all right now, whatever the case may be, here is where we can take a moment to assess how that is working out for us. I have been working two jobs and doing 1 in Four on the side, and recently took stock of my energy levels and realized that one of the jobs I was doing was depleting me entirely — it was a caustic environment and I came home feeling emotionally drained from the interactions I had during the day; I recognized that I felt no joy in the work I did especially in light of how passionate I am about being a part of building 1 in Four. I am in a position where I could speak to my boss and stratagize an exit plan that works best for the company as well as myself. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel like I can face tomorrow, rather than want to crawl back under the covers and hide from the world. The important part of a self check-in is to know that there are always options.
Physical
This part is about things like your housing, transportation, and even your physical location. Sometimes being on a fixed budget might make it seem like what you have is what you are stuck with, but with a little planning and research, this isn’t always the case.
Carpooling with co-workers some of the days of the week can help ease up on gas costs, vehicle wear-and-tear, and the stress of rush-hour driving… if you bus, you might be able to offer the same money to a friend to pick you up in the morning, if they are already going in the same direction… and maybe getting some bicycling or walking into your routine could help release some endorphins to give you that boost you need to your mood.
Moving isn’t always an easy or fun thing to do, but if your housing isn’t working for you, it is certainly an option and there are Transitional Support Workers through many of the agencies listed on our resources tab that can help you do a Pro’s and Con’s list, to see if this might be the right choice — if you aren’t happy or if it isn’t the right fit, why stay? I remember when my daughter was 2, I was living on the third floor of a walk-up and was developing bad knees. I was carrying too much of my own weight, plus often my daughter and groceries and any number of other items up and down those stairs. I spoke to my doctor, who sent me for X-rays and highly advised me to change my living situation to a main-floor apartment, or I would need new knees before I was 40. I’m in an apartment with an elevator now, and that makes a huge difference to the rest of the stress in my life, knowing I wont have to lug things up and down those three flights.
Philosophical
Rather than tack this into the ‘personal’ category, I feel it is important enough for its own spot. How our spiritual or religious well-being is at any given moment can be a make-it or break-it situation for just about anyone. You don’t have to be religious to feel spiritual about life. Sometimes we are aware that we aren’t living up to our true potential, we aren’t finding pleasure in anything we do, and we just don’t know what exactly isn’t working — this is a spiritual misalignment. Other times things are working out great! We feel on top of the world, as though everything we put our hand to seems to turn out golden — this is when we are fully in alignment! Checking in with how we see ourselves in our own world, how our path is going, is very important to know what next step to take. If we feel scattered and unsure of ourselves, then maybe we know it’s not a good time to make a big, life-changing decision. Maybe it’s better to wait until things are calmed down. This isn’t always the case for everyone, sometimes people flourish better within chaos and find it easier to make big decisions when everything else is already in flux — you know yourself best, but unless you check-in, you wont know at all!
A realistic review of the above aspects of our lives can help us see that maybe things aren’t as impossible as we originally thought, or maybe it is time for a change.
Remember, I’m not a therapist or a doctor or a life-coach. I am sharing these thoughts with you as a survivor reaching out to those in need. If you feel that you are ready to seek out specific support, there are amazing services available here in Hamilton (and if you are not local, I am sure there are some available in your community as well)… all you have to do is make that phone-call and they will walk you through the steps. If you feel you need help to manage any part of what is going on in your life, just know that you are worth it and you have the right to reach out and ask for it.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
1in4 Forum: I want to share my story - because I went back...
I remember it clearly... standing, naked, in the bathtub at my
mother's place.. we were both crying, and she was washing my wounds with
peroxide. My cat had scratched and slashed up my arms and chest pretty
badly. Why is this relevant?? Well.. I was leaving. I had been away at
an in-house PTSD course, and I'd come back to the apartment to get my
things and my cat.
My ex-partner and I had already had a messy show-down. We were fighting (as usual) over something ridiculous and it escalated to the point where he strangled me to the floor (not usual). I kneed him in the balls to get him off me, and he considers this even -- he hit me, I hit him; no harm, no foul. I did not agree (do you?). I was conveniently already scheduled to go to this 6 week program and was able to pack my things and go.
While in therapy groups, I was able to realize some of my own strength, and I decided that it was time to move out from the abusive situation.
When I finally went to retrieve my things, he was there and we had another fight. He was threatening to kill my cat. He was chasing it around the apartment and up-ended the bed to get at the hiding animal. My cat is NOT declawed, and once I had him in my arms, I held onto him for dear life as I attempted to leave the apartment around a screaming, wildly gesticulating man. The cat had other plans -- he wanted to run away from all the craziness and back into the safety of the home he had known for the past year. But I held firm, regardless of the way his digging nails were shredding my unprotected skin.
I drove 40 minutes to my mom's place in the next town over, bloody, crying and snotty.. with a laundry basket of my dirty clothes and my cat, curled up behind the back seat, on the floor, quiet as can be, lest he draw any attention to himself!
And there we get to the first mentioned scene -- my mother, myself and the peroxide.
I remember the feelings. I remember the shame and the guilt ... but not the anger. The anger didn't come until many years later. At the time, I felt like I'd let my mother down -- how could I do this to her little girl? I felt like I'd made a terrible mistake by choosing this man and by letting it get this far.
I was still enrolled in the PTSD course, and when I left from there, I found myself an apartment in that town, a different one from where my abuser was, and sadly found a roommate from the wrong pool of people. I didn't know anyone in that town; I was entirely isolated. I chose a guy I had met through the Rehabilitation Centre where I had been doing my PTSD course. He was anything but stable, but I wanted to see the best in him and there was no way either of us could afford a place on our own. Suffice it to say -- it did not turn out well.
And what was I to do at this point? My mother was newly re-married and I didn't want to impose on her. My abuser had spent the past two years systematically dismantalling all my support networks. I had no local friends and no one to turn to in my time of need.
My new roommate was destroying the apartment and bringing in drugs, along with the people who sold them to him, and stealing my belongings (hocking them in order to purchase his drugs). I moved everything I owned into my small bedroom and put a dead-bolt on the door. I felt like I was living in a storage unit.
And there was my abuser ... he was reaching out to me. Asking if I was alright. Offering support, kindness... here was a man I had loved for 2 years, trying to save me from my incredibly messed up situation. He was all I had. He was the only one trying to be there for me. In my confusion, I didn't think about the fact that this was what he had created. I didn't realize that it was exactly how he had orchestrated it from the beginning. If he got rid of everyone else in my life, so I had no one but him, then I couldn't leave him, I would need to rely on him.
So I went back.
I was still paying rent for my apartment in the next town over. And I still had to go and feed my cat every few days, but I was spending most of my time crashing at my abuser's place... or rather, he had moved into his mother's basement because he couldn't afford the apartment we had shared once I'd moved out.
He didn't hit me. He threw a glass of cold water in my face when I pissed him off. Was this the same as hitting me? I wasn't entirely sure. I didn't know where the line was drawn. I didn't know much of anything at this point. We were intimate. I don't think he would have let me stay over if we hadn't been. I felt awkward and withdrawn and did not experience any pleasure, but simply went through the motions because I had nowhere else to turn.
The best moment of my life happened during this crazy tumultuous time. I got pregnant. My daughter is my saving grace. She has propelled me towards an entirely different standard of life. Maybe I wasn't strong enough to stand up to his abuse for myself. But the moment I knew there was going to be a child involved, I found that strength. He once nearly pushed me down a flight of stairs while I was pregnant -- I was trying to come up and get involved in some silly argument that was going on between himself and his sister, he said "this doesn't concern you, go back downstairs" and pushed me through the doorway. Being unsteady on my pregnant feet, with a strange center of gravity, had it not been for a desperate grasp at the doorframe, hooking my arm against the wall, I am certain I would have gone ass-over-tea-kettle to the bottom of the stairs.
That was it for me. That was the day I moved out. I packed my car with what I could get, and I drove away. He called me 50 or more times over the next half hour. He was crying and begging and threatening to kill himself if I left with his unborn child. He loved me, he needed me, he wanted us to be a family. I told him the threats were text-book abuse. I told him he'd been abusing me all along and that I wasn't going to take it. These words were much easier over the phone, out of arms reach, and with his tears the recipient, rather than his blind rage.
I went to my mothers. She took me in with open arms. She would have the first time around, if I'd only asked. But fate has a funny way of doing things -- I needed to go back so that my beautiful, amazing, smart and funny little girl could be born. I needed to go back to realize I had the strength to leave.
I sent my abuser an email with a list of requirements for him to meet if he wanted to be a part of my life. They included things like, getting a therapist to deal with his anger issues and if he got a diagnosis, to follow the medication routine. The list stated that I would not meet with him anywhere in person unless it was a public place. There were a couple other demands, but he met them. We got together a couple times about 6 months later, and he seemed to be following the requests to the letter. He was there for the birth of our daughter -- I know I couldn't have gotten through that morning without him. We tried, because of her, to work things out for the next 8 months. We went to couple's counselling. I remember two things very clearly from those sessions. The first was when the therapist said "You know, the things Cass is asking for are not out of line. They are what a healthy relationship requires to work." The other was when he indicated that he didn't see the things he was doing were wrong and he didn't see any reason to change. I knew then that it was never going to work. We weren't living together, so it was easier to hold on until after Christmas -- it was our daughter's first Christmas and I didn't want to ruin it for everyone involved. But that was it. By New Years we were no longer together, and this was the final break.
We are still tied; forever connected by the bond of our little girl -- and by the court-ordered visitations! But we've come, finally, over the last 8 years, to a fairly amicable place. I am one of the lucky ones. I know that if I really need to, I can ask him to switch weekends (like this weekend, when my sister is coming from out of province to visit and it would have been his weekend) ... but I don't rely on him for other things. He loves his little girl. He has moved on from me -- has been with another woman and her kids for nearly 5 years now. I am happy for him and I am glad that my daughter fits in so well with their family when she is there on his weekends.
I have never forgotten our mixed-up past. But it gets duller with time. And I am stronger now for the experience. I would never have planned it this way, but life unfolds in mysterious ways. And this is just a bit of my story.
My ex-partner and I had already had a messy show-down. We were fighting (as usual) over something ridiculous and it escalated to the point where he strangled me to the floor (not usual). I kneed him in the balls to get him off me, and he considers this even -- he hit me, I hit him; no harm, no foul. I did not agree (do you?). I was conveniently already scheduled to go to this 6 week program and was able to pack my things and go.
While in therapy groups, I was able to realize some of my own strength, and I decided that it was time to move out from the abusive situation.
When I finally went to retrieve my things, he was there and we had another fight. He was threatening to kill my cat. He was chasing it around the apartment and up-ended the bed to get at the hiding animal. My cat is NOT declawed, and once I had him in my arms, I held onto him for dear life as I attempted to leave the apartment around a screaming, wildly gesticulating man. The cat had other plans -- he wanted to run away from all the craziness and back into the safety of the home he had known for the past year. But I held firm, regardless of the way his digging nails were shredding my unprotected skin.
I drove 40 minutes to my mom's place in the next town over, bloody, crying and snotty.. with a laundry basket of my dirty clothes and my cat, curled up behind the back seat, on the floor, quiet as can be, lest he draw any attention to himself!
And there we get to the first mentioned scene -- my mother, myself and the peroxide.
I remember the feelings. I remember the shame and the guilt ... but not the anger. The anger didn't come until many years later. At the time, I felt like I'd let my mother down -- how could I do this to her little girl? I felt like I'd made a terrible mistake by choosing this man and by letting it get this far.
I was still enrolled in the PTSD course, and when I left from there, I found myself an apartment in that town, a different one from where my abuser was, and sadly found a roommate from the wrong pool of people. I didn't know anyone in that town; I was entirely isolated. I chose a guy I had met through the Rehabilitation Centre where I had been doing my PTSD course. He was anything but stable, but I wanted to see the best in him and there was no way either of us could afford a place on our own. Suffice it to say -- it did not turn out well.
And what was I to do at this point? My mother was newly re-married and I didn't want to impose on her. My abuser had spent the past two years systematically dismantalling all my support networks. I had no local friends and no one to turn to in my time of need.
My new roommate was destroying the apartment and bringing in drugs, along with the people who sold them to him, and stealing my belongings (hocking them in order to purchase his drugs). I moved everything I owned into my small bedroom and put a dead-bolt on the door. I felt like I was living in a storage unit.
And there was my abuser ... he was reaching out to me. Asking if I was alright. Offering support, kindness... here was a man I had loved for 2 years, trying to save me from my incredibly messed up situation. He was all I had. He was the only one trying to be there for me. In my confusion, I didn't think about the fact that this was what he had created. I didn't realize that it was exactly how he had orchestrated it from the beginning. If he got rid of everyone else in my life, so I had no one but him, then I couldn't leave him, I would need to rely on him.
So I went back.
I was still paying rent for my apartment in the next town over. And I still had to go and feed my cat every few days, but I was spending most of my time crashing at my abuser's place... or rather, he had moved into his mother's basement because he couldn't afford the apartment we had shared once I'd moved out.
He didn't hit me. He threw a glass of cold water in my face when I pissed him off. Was this the same as hitting me? I wasn't entirely sure. I didn't know where the line was drawn. I didn't know much of anything at this point. We were intimate. I don't think he would have let me stay over if we hadn't been. I felt awkward and withdrawn and did not experience any pleasure, but simply went through the motions because I had nowhere else to turn.
The best moment of my life happened during this crazy tumultuous time. I got pregnant. My daughter is my saving grace. She has propelled me towards an entirely different standard of life. Maybe I wasn't strong enough to stand up to his abuse for myself. But the moment I knew there was going to be a child involved, I found that strength. He once nearly pushed me down a flight of stairs while I was pregnant -- I was trying to come up and get involved in some silly argument that was going on between himself and his sister, he said "this doesn't concern you, go back downstairs" and pushed me through the doorway. Being unsteady on my pregnant feet, with a strange center of gravity, had it not been for a desperate grasp at the doorframe, hooking my arm against the wall, I am certain I would have gone ass-over-tea-kettle to the bottom of the stairs.
That was it for me. That was the day I moved out. I packed my car with what I could get, and I drove away. He called me 50 or more times over the next half hour. He was crying and begging and threatening to kill himself if I left with his unborn child. He loved me, he needed me, he wanted us to be a family. I told him the threats were text-book abuse. I told him he'd been abusing me all along and that I wasn't going to take it. These words were much easier over the phone, out of arms reach, and with his tears the recipient, rather than his blind rage.
I went to my mothers. She took me in with open arms. She would have the first time around, if I'd only asked. But fate has a funny way of doing things -- I needed to go back so that my beautiful, amazing, smart and funny little girl could be born. I needed to go back to realize I had the strength to leave.
I sent my abuser an email with a list of requirements for him to meet if he wanted to be a part of my life. They included things like, getting a therapist to deal with his anger issues and if he got a diagnosis, to follow the medication routine. The list stated that I would not meet with him anywhere in person unless it was a public place. There were a couple other demands, but he met them. We got together a couple times about 6 months later, and he seemed to be following the requests to the letter. He was there for the birth of our daughter -- I know I couldn't have gotten through that morning without him. We tried, because of her, to work things out for the next 8 months. We went to couple's counselling. I remember two things very clearly from those sessions. The first was when the therapist said "You know, the things Cass is asking for are not out of line. They are what a healthy relationship requires to work." The other was when he indicated that he didn't see the things he was doing were wrong and he didn't see any reason to change. I knew then that it was never going to work. We weren't living together, so it was easier to hold on until after Christmas -- it was our daughter's first Christmas and I didn't want to ruin it for everyone involved. But that was it. By New Years we were no longer together, and this was the final break.
We are still tied; forever connected by the bond of our little girl -- and by the court-ordered visitations! But we've come, finally, over the last 8 years, to a fairly amicable place. I am one of the lucky ones. I know that if I really need to, I can ask him to switch weekends (like this weekend, when my sister is coming from out of province to visit and it would have been his weekend) ... but I don't rely on him for other things. He loves his little girl. He has moved on from me -- has been with another woman and her kids for nearly 5 years now. I am happy for him and I am glad that my daughter fits in so well with their family when she is there on his weekends.
I have never forgotten our mixed-up past. But it gets duller with time. And I am stronger now for the experience. I would never have planned it this way, but life unfolds in mysterious ways. And this is just a bit of my story.
Monday, October 15, 2012
1in4: Small-f faith
This is not a spiritual post for me. Or rather, it is not a religious
thought, at the very least. Faith is something we can have in many
other parts of our lives. We have faith that when we put our garbage
cans at the end of the drive-way, the city officials have done the right
things to bring the garbage truck with employees to cart that garbage
away to the local dump. We have faith that when we leave our children
at school in the morning every week day, we are leaving them in the
hands of the best qualified people to take care of them and enrich their
knowledge base. We have faith that the food we buy from the
supermarket has been handled in a sanitary fashion from where it came
from until we put it on our dinner table to feed our family. We lead
our lives under a significant amount of faith… trusting in other people
and hoping for a positive outcome.
Being a survivor of domestic violence is like a journey back to faith. As a victim, we have lost that faith. We have had our trust broken by our abuser and been hurt in one or more ways — emotionally, physically, financially… We no longer have faith that the system works as it should. We no longer wake up believing that anything or anyone can possibly work the way it should. Someone we trusted into our homes, our lives, and closest of all, our hearts — this person has breeched everything we held dear to the very foundation of our existence.
As a victim, we now see hurt where there may not be — because we are forever on the look-out for it. The old adage, once bitten, twice weary. If someone we judged to be worthy of trust and love could hurt us so very deeply, then how can we trust ourselves to make that judgement about anyone else out there — friend, family or service provider alike. At rock bottom, our belief structure might resemble something like this: All lawyers are out to get us. All judges are heartless. All CAS workers are evil. All service providers will breech our trust. All men are abusers. All women are secretly in cohorts with those men.
But we know those statements aren’t true. We know that there are good people out there. We just don’t know how to trust them. We don’t know how to take things on faith anymore.
Through continued hard work on our own part… slowly, taking baby steps… it is possible to learn to trust our own judgement again. It is possible to realize that domestic violence was an act carried out AGAINST us; that we didn’t ask for it or go seeking it. We can learn to have faith in other people. We can learn to have faith in the system. Much of this starts with fellow survivors. Finding a circle of women who we can trust not to hurt us, because they know what we’ve been through — they’ve been through similar experiences. They know what it is like to be delicate. They know how difficult it is to reach out for those bonds of friendships, to have faith that we are being a good judge of character and we are going forward into a friendship that will uphold our dignity.
Here on 1 in Four we want to help make that first step a little bit easier, offer a little softer approach. We have Forums where you can connect with fellow survivors and reach out, in faith, that they will reach back. We invite you to take that first step with us today, so that when the time comes for the tougher steps — like calling a crisis line or making your first appointment with a TSW (transitional support worker) or starting 10 sessions of therapy for sexual assault — you’ll be just a little bit stronger and you’ll be filled with a little more faith. Because there are a lot of great signs to show you that faith in humanity is still a good bet!
(… and while we’re on the subject of ‘faith’ .. I wanted to sneak in a link to a cute website, if you can get past all the blatant advertising, www.givesmehope.com has some very lovely story snippets to help make you smile.)
Being a survivor of domestic violence is like a journey back to faith. As a victim, we have lost that faith. We have had our trust broken by our abuser and been hurt in one or more ways — emotionally, physically, financially… We no longer have faith that the system works as it should. We no longer wake up believing that anything or anyone can possibly work the way it should. Someone we trusted into our homes, our lives, and closest of all, our hearts — this person has breeched everything we held dear to the very foundation of our existence.
As a victim, we now see hurt where there may not be — because we are forever on the look-out for it. The old adage, once bitten, twice weary. If someone we judged to be worthy of trust and love could hurt us so very deeply, then how can we trust ourselves to make that judgement about anyone else out there — friend, family or service provider alike. At rock bottom, our belief structure might resemble something like this: All lawyers are out to get us. All judges are heartless. All CAS workers are evil. All service providers will breech our trust. All men are abusers. All women are secretly in cohorts with those men.
But we know those statements aren’t true. We know that there are good people out there. We just don’t know how to trust them. We don’t know how to take things on faith anymore.
Through continued hard work on our own part… slowly, taking baby steps… it is possible to learn to trust our own judgement again. It is possible to realize that domestic violence was an act carried out AGAINST us; that we didn’t ask for it or go seeking it. We can learn to have faith in other people. We can learn to have faith in the system. Much of this starts with fellow survivors. Finding a circle of women who we can trust not to hurt us, because they know what we’ve been through — they’ve been through similar experiences. They know what it is like to be delicate. They know how difficult it is to reach out for those bonds of friendships, to have faith that we are being a good judge of character and we are going forward into a friendship that will uphold our dignity.
Here on 1 in Four we want to help make that first step a little bit easier, offer a little softer approach. We have Forums where you can connect with fellow survivors and reach out, in faith, that they will reach back. We invite you to take that first step with us today, so that when the time comes for the tougher steps — like calling a crisis line or making your first appointment with a TSW (transitional support worker) or starting 10 sessions of therapy for sexual assault — you’ll be just a little bit stronger and you’ll be filled with a little more faith. Because there are a lot of great signs to show you that faith in humanity is still a good bet!
(… and while we’re on the subject of ‘faith’ .. I wanted to sneak in a link to a cute website, if you can get past all the blatant advertising, www.givesmehope.com has some very lovely story snippets to help make you smile.)
Thursday, October 4, 2012
1in4: Survivors for Survivors
There’s a key flavour to 1 in Four that I want to take a moment to
touch on. It’s the aspect that all three founders are indeed survivors
of domestic violence ourselves. This may not immediately come across as
an important factor — because indeed, it is not required in order to
support victims of domestic violence. There are many amazing,
well-meaning and VERY helpful support workers in the DV community who
move mountains in order to help survivors like myself. In fact, I would
not be where I am today, if it weren’t for a whole bucket-load of those
very women.
But I guess, in a way, its like being a parent — as awesome as a child-less aunt can be, as truly fun-loving as an uncle or older cousin is, or as responsible and greatly needed as a trained babysitter can be — until you are a parent yourself, there is no book, course or words that can ever express what it is truly like. The hours, in the middle of the night, when baby is asleep and you KNOW you should be sleeping, but you just need to check to make sure she is breathing one last time, before closing your eyes. That sinking feeling when you’ve gotten caught up in a conversation at the park and your little one is out of sight, and you’re looking everywhere for that bright purple shirt you dressed her in, but the seconds are ticking away and you still don’t see her…. only for her to emerge from under a climbing tube, giggling and happy, without a concern in the world, while your heart slowly slips down to its proper resting place and out of the back of your throat! Until you’ve given everything you’ve got for your kid and they still want more… you just can’t quite understand the nuance of parenthood until it happens to you, no matter how eloquently I attempt to express it. I know, I thought I got it before I had mine, and then that very first day, I realized I’d never loved another human being in quite the same way before……
But I digress, this isn’t about parenting, this is about domestic violence. I am grateful for the support network of amazing women who have chosen this career path, having likely never experienced it themselves, but obviously having witnessed the outcome in some way that drove a passion for them to help end the suffering. I don’t have words of thanks enough in my vocabulary to express how truly wonderful support staff are, from shelters, to crisis lines, to groups and other agencies. The point of this post is not to knock them.
The thing of it is — until you’ve truly experienced something, good or bad, you can’t QUITE grasp on to what it means to go through it. Sure, we don’t all need to rush out and jump off a cliff to get the idea…. but somehow, there is this look in the eyes of a woman who has been through it that is just different… when I talk about pieces of my story at support groups, my fellow survivors nod and their eyes indicate looks of “I know what you mean” or “I was there too” or “wow, I thought it was only me” … The women who are running the group nod, too, but their eyes say something else, closer to “I have heard this too many times before, this is why I’m here, to help” or “sometimes I just can’t believe how horrible that must have been for you” or even “that’s so tragically sad” … It isn’t that they can’t help me. And it isn’t that they wont do everything within their position and power to get me on the right road again. There is a very important part in the healing process where we dearly need those support workers.
But when fellow survivors can reach out and support one another, I think it is a very different beast all together. I think it is deeper, somehow more meaningful on a personal level.
I love when friends without kids give me parenting advice, especially when it comes along with the qualifier “My mother says when I was a kid…” Although its not quite the same when support workers who have never experienced domestic violence help me — they are coming from years of education and experience working with other clients — its still the line “That must have been very hard for you.” versus “I can relate, I had a similar situation.”
As survivors of domestic violence, we all live our own journey; we all have our own story; no two are completely alike. We all need safe, healthy, supportive workers to help us along that journey of healing. Sometimes, though, it’s just really great to connect with a fellow survivor and share that moment of “I know!” Don’t you think?
But I guess, in a way, its like being a parent — as awesome as a child-less aunt can be, as truly fun-loving as an uncle or older cousin is, or as responsible and greatly needed as a trained babysitter can be — until you are a parent yourself, there is no book, course or words that can ever express what it is truly like. The hours, in the middle of the night, when baby is asleep and you KNOW you should be sleeping, but you just need to check to make sure she is breathing one last time, before closing your eyes. That sinking feeling when you’ve gotten caught up in a conversation at the park and your little one is out of sight, and you’re looking everywhere for that bright purple shirt you dressed her in, but the seconds are ticking away and you still don’t see her…. only for her to emerge from under a climbing tube, giggling and happy, without a concern in the world, while your heart slowly slips down to its proper resting place and out of the back of your throat! Until you’ve given everything you’ve got for your kid and they still want more… you just can’t quite understand the nuance of parenthood until it happens to you, no matter how eloquently I attempt to express it. I know, I thought I got it before I had mine, and then that very first day, I realized I’d never loved another human being in quite the same way before……
But I digress, this isn’t about parenting, this is about domestic violence. I am grateful for the support network of amazing women who have chosen this career path, having likely never experienced it themselves, but obviously having witnessed the outcome in some way that drove a passion for them to help end the suffering. I don’t have words of thanks enough in my vocabulary to express how truly wonderful support staff are, from shelters, to crisis lines, to groups and other agencies. The point of this post is not to knock them.
The thing of it is — until you’ve truly experienced something, good or bad, you can’t QUITE grasp on to what it means to go through it. Sure, we don’t all need to rush out and jump off a cliff to get the idea…. but somehow, there is this look in the eyes of a woman who has been through it that is just different… when I talk about pieces of my story at support groups, my fellow survivors nod and their eyes indicate looks of “I know what you mean” or “I was there too” or “wow, I thought it was only me” … The women who are running the group nod, too, but their eyes say something else, closer to “I have heard this too many times before, this is why I’m here, to help” or “sometimes I just can’t believe how horrible that must have been for you” or even “that’s so tragically sad” … It isn’t that they can’t help me. And it isn’t that they wont do everything within their position and power to get me on the right road again. There is a very important part in the healing process where we dearly need those support workers.
But when fellow survivors can reach out and support one another, I think it is a very different beast all together. I think it is deeper, somehow more meaningful on a personal level.
I love when friends without kids give me parenting advice, especially when it comes along with the qualifier “My mother says when I was a kid…” Although its not quite the same when support workers who have never experienced domestic violence help me — they are coming from years of education and experience working with other clients — its still the line “That must have been very hard for you.” versus “I can relate, I had a similar situation.”
As survivors of domestic violence, we all live our own journey; we all have our own story; no two are completely alike. We all need safe, healthy, supportive workers to help us along that journey of healing. Sometimes, though, it’s just really great to connect with a fellow survivor and share that moment of “I know!” Don’t you think?
Thursday, September 27, 2012
1in4: What do you mean 'survivor'?
When talking about domestic violence, one often hears the term
“survivor”. I know I’ve used it to speak of myself, and to refer to my
fellow 1 in Four founders. But it wasn’t until someone who has no
experience with domestic violence on any level asked me “What do you
mean by ‘survivor’?” that I actually paused to consider the use of this
particular word.
We use survivor as opposed to victim. To me it is for obvious reasons — one is positive, life-affirming, and empowering… while the other is negative, hurtful and powerless.
Before I go too much further, lets look at the actual definition of these words:
And the important part of survivor comes from the definition of survive:
Survivors of domestic violence are some of the strongest women I know, and yet at the same time, they are soft in their own right — they are kind, generous, caring, loving. They learn to trust again after the worst breach of trust possible. They learn to forgive — forgive their abusers (from a safe distance!!) and most importantly, to forgive themselves.
When it comes to domestic violence, the nuance of it is — we are all victims… but when there is a shift in the mind, when we transition through the healing, there comes a point where being labeled a victim no longer serves any purpose on our journey. When this happens, that is when we have truly survived. When we are finally a survivor.
I could go on and talk about the supports in our lives, about how important service providers are and getting connected with the right people at the right time — about the importance of shelters and crisis lines and therapists and transitional support workers and groups, etc, etc, etc… But I think that really does go without saying – 1 in Four wouldn’t exist at all if we didn’t see those connections as paramount to the survival of women experiencing domestic violence.
I send this blog out to everyone who doesn’t understand why the terminology is so important, but I also send it out to those women who are still stuck in the cycle of abuse — and I don’t mean just being hit, or just being hurt by your partner — the cycle doesn’t end when you leave, even if you’re lucky enough to have an ex-partner who will just let you go. The cycle only ends when YOU make that shift from victim-hood into the role of survivor.
There are a lot of survivors here, waiting for you….. just take that step and we’ll be here to spot you along the way. You are strong enough. You are worth it. You made it this far, you can go the distance. We believe in you!
We use survivor as opposed to victim. To me it is for obvious reasons — one is positive, life-affirming, and empowering… while the other is negative, hurtful and powerless.
Before I go too much further, lets look at the actual definition of these words:
victim: nThe news often uses the first term — victim of domestic violence; victim of a heinous crime; victim of circumstances…. But those in the know, those who have lived through domestic violence and come out the other side, alive and stronger for the experience — we know better. We are survivors.
1. A person harmed, injured, or killed as a result of a crime, accident, or other event or action.
2. A person who is tricked or duped: “the victim of a hoax”.
survivor: n
1. A person who survives, esp. a person remaining alive after an event in which others have died: “the sole survivor of the massacre”.
2. The remainder of a group of people or things.
And the important part of survivor comes from the definition of survive:
survive:… to carry on despite… to persevere… to persist…. to cope!
v.intr.
1. To remain alive or in existence.
2. To carry on despite hardships or trauma; persevere: families that were surviving in tents after the flood.
3. To remain functional or usable: I dropped the radio, but it survived.
v.tr.
1. To live longer than; outlive: She survived her husband by five years.
2. To live, persist, or remain usable through: plants that can survive frosts; a clock that survived a fall.
3. To cope with (a trauma or setback); persevere after: survived child abuse.
Survivors of domestic violence are some of the strongest women I know, and yet at the same time, they are soft in their own right — they are kind, generous, caring, loving. They learn to trust again after the worst breach of trust possible. They learn to forgive — forgive their abusers (from a safe distance!!) and most importantly, to forgive themselves.
When it comes to domestic violence, the nuance of it is — we are all victims… but when there is a shift in the mind, when we transition through the healing, there comes a point where being labeled a victim no longer serves any purpose on our journey. When this happens, that is when we have truly survived. When we are finally a survivor.
I could go on and talk about the supports in our lives, about how important service providers are and getting connected with the right people at the right time — about the importance of shelters and crisis lines and therapists and transitional support workers and groups, etc, etc, etc… But I think that really does go without saying – 1 in Four wouldn’t exist at all if we didn’t see those connections as paramount to the survival of women experiencing domestic violence.
I send this blog out to everyone who doesn’t understand why the terminology is so important, but I also send it out to those women who are still stuck in the cycle of abuse — and I don’t mean just being hit, or just being hurt by your partner — the cycle doesn’t end when you leave, even if you’re lucky enough to have an ex-partner who will just let you go. The cycle only ends when YOU make that shift from victim-hood into the role of survivor.
There are a lot of survivors here, waiting for you….. just take that step and we’ll be here to spot you along the way. You are strong enough. You are worth it. You made it this far, you can go the distance. We believe in you!
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Postabled Posts Posted Post-haste!
Wish I could find the date of when I wrote this .. hrm .... wonder if I have a hard-copy somewhere with a date on it .. I'll look and update if I do. Regardless, this is a piece that I don't think is posted anywhere except my OKC profile :) so its here now for you to enjoy! yay! :)
---
The disabled are mislabeled
and the public is mislead
afraid to tread
on the toes
of those
they do not understand.
So come and take my hand
and I'll lead you
and feed you
the truth for your brain to see
because its plain to me
that living in this mediacracy
has eaten away at all you say
all you believe and think is real
unable to feel
alive on the inside
forced to hide
whatever scraps of yourself
you've managed to hold on to this long......
hold on ....
its gunna be alright ..
cuz the man with the plan can't stand
to see you fall down ...
---
The disabled are mislabeled
and the public is mislead
afraid to tread
on the toes
of those
they do not understand.
So come and take my hand
and I'll lead you
and feed you
the truth for your brain to see
because its plain to me
that living in this mediacracy
has eaten away at all you say
all you believe and think is real
unable to feel
alive on the inside
forced to hide
whatever scraps of yourself
you've managed to hold on to this long......
hold on ....
its gunna be alright ..
cuz the man with the plan can't stand
to see you fall down ...
Thursday, August 2, 2012
less-than-three
"The one thing you cannot trade for your heart's desire is your heart." (Memory - by L.M. Bujold)
Monday, May 21, 2012
fear, just like anger, is not a bad thing -- its what you DO with it!
Do you ever feel like getting everything you want is scarier than struggling to get those things? I am moving in a week into the best possible future for myself and my daughter. I will be able to breathe again for the first time in a LONG time and no one can pull the ground out from under my feet -- it will be stable for as long as I want it to be. I can start to focus forward instead of always worrying about the now. I can make decisions for possibilities for tomorrow, rather than just dream them and never reach them. And I am scared!! I know how turmoil works -- I've worked it for the last decade of my life. Things have fallen from one bad scenario to the next, but I've always managed to pull us through it and I've always managed to come up for a breath of fresh air before being sucked back in. The thing is -- this next move will be nothing like the other ones and I can already almost TASTE the solid ground. How does that work? How do I let go of this "survivor" mentality that I've adopted to live my daily life, because it has been the only way possible for me? I know I will feel may way through it, I know I will learn the next dance moves just the same way as I always have; I have strength and conviction and courage -- I know I am capable. I'm just admitting the fear, turning it around and looking at it from all angles so I can be ready. Life, here I come, be ready for me, because I am going places!!!! :)
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Friday, February 10, 2012
I need friends ... can we be friends?!
... have you noticed... oddly enough ... Canadian Tire has a really lovely Home Sense section, fraught with Debbie Travis galore!!??
I'd love to saunter in there .. dressed to the teeth ... maybe snag some chairs from Seasonal ... and set up a li'l imaginary High Tea party of our own.
Game?
no?
Okay, well .. this is my other plan ... wander over to Walmart and grab a cart .. fill 'er up w/ all the stuff we'd need to go camping .. and then head to a more off-beat corner to set up our camp-site ...
better?
still no?
The last one involves other people ... besides you and I .. but I'd love to get a hold of as many friends/family/random people on the street as possible .. and plan our way ahead of time, then slowly trickle in to a Chapters/Indigo store and randomly snag books off the shelves (so they're not just all from one shelf and in order) until each person individually has an arm-load (or whatever their maximum carrying capacity may be) and then converge on a pre-arranged location -- perhaps the children section would be best .... and quickly build as much of a fort w/ our books as we can before being escorted out ......
...
I'm really not about destruction ... I'd just like to be a thorn in the corporate side ... cause a little harmless mayhem ......
are you interested yet?!@#! :)
I mean, we could always just grab a beer, or a coffee, and discuss the finer points of Arthur Schopenhauer's philosophies.
Hi .. my name is Cass (and no, this isn't a canned msg ... but then .. if it were, I'd probably say this in an attempt to throw you off ... in which case, arguing the point is moot ..... but.... c'est la vie!)
I'd love to saunter in there .. dressed to the teeth ... maybe snag some chairs from Seasonal ... and set up a li'l imaginary High Tea party of our own.
Game?
no?
Okay, well .. this is my other plan ... wander over to Walmart and grab a cart .. fill 'er up w/ all the stuff we'd need to go camping .. and then head to a more off-beat corner to set up our camp-site ...
better?
still no?
The last one involves other people ... besides you and I .. but I'd love to get a hold of as many friends/family/random people on the street as possible .. and plan our way ahead of time, then slowly trickle in to a Chapters/Indigo store and randomly snag books off the shelves (so they're not just all from one shelf and in order) until each person individually has an arm-load (or whatever their maximum carrying capacity may be) and then converge on a pre-arranged location -- perhaps the children section would be best .... and quickly build as much of a fort w/ our books as we can before being escorted out ......
...
I'm really not about destruction ... I'd just like to be a thorn in the corporate side ... cause a little harmless mayhem ......
are you interested yet?!@#! :)
I mean, we could always just grab a beer, or a coffee, and discuss the finer points of Arthur Schopenhauer's philosophies.
Hi .. my name is Cass (and no, this isn't a canned msg ... but then .. if it were, I'd probably say this in an attempt to throw you off ... in which case, arguing the point is moot ..... but.... c'est la vie!)
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
A Humantra
ORIGINAL: Janurary 24, 2012
I trust myself. I listen to my own wisdom.
I surround myself with people who encourage me in the intentions I set for myself.
I accomplish what I put my mind to because I believe in my own abilities.
I am worthy.
I respect myself.
I allow myself to take on only what I can handle at any given time.
I give myself permission to be happy.
───────────────────────────────
UPDATED: March 23, 2015
A Humantra
I
am strong.
I am capable.
I
am beautiful.
I
am intelligent.
I
trust myself.
I
listen to my own wisdom.
I
surround myself with people who encourage me
in the intentions I set
for myself.
I
accomplish what I put my mind to because
I believe in my own
abilities.
I allow myself to take on only what I can
handle at any given time.
I give myself permission to be happy.
I
respect myself.
I am worthy.
I
am enough.
I am.
.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
SOPA?
Back in early 2000 I had the fortune of providing temporary hosting for a website called daterape.org. If you google the quoted "daterape.org" you can read some of the controversy that went around the globe in discussing this site.
(for quick-access, here are two differing views:
http://www.wired.com/politics/law/news/2000/03/34941
http://www.fitug.de/debate/0003/msg00737.html
I'd like you to take particular note of the second link)
For my part, I believed the website to be a satire.
sat·ire noun /ˈsaËŒtÄ«r/ The use of humor, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people's stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues
It was SO over the top and in your face, how anyone could see it as something other than satire is mind-boggling to me. The first link up there gives you a pretty good idea of what was on the site. But it fails to mention some of the other things on the site -- like, directions to boys on their first date, including, for example, how to dismantle the inside of the car door handle so that it will open only from the outside. This one was a complete shocker to me! I had been on many internet dates, as I was twenty years old in the year 2000, but I had never in my wildest dreams conjured up the idea that I should check that the car I am getting into could be opened from the inside, after I was in -- I just assumed this was a given.
This website, from its first 500 viewers, managed to garner national and eventually global attention. What were people talking about? Several issues -- many of them were talking about the disgusting nature of the website, others were talking about freedom of speech on the internet, but one thing was being discussed that generally got very little air time: date rape.
Unfortunately, no matter the campaigns in high school, date rape is still extremely under reported, even though statistics show that it occurs frequently. According to safecity.ca a 1993 survey of female undergraduates at Canadian universities reported that "four out of five women said that they had been victims of violence in a relationship". That is 80% of the female populous, without taking into account men or same-sex partnerships.
This was just seven years before the 2000 website daterape.org came online. Who was daterape.org educating about the realities of daterape? Was it the offenders? Because with a pervasive influence such as 4 out of 5, it seems to me like the abusers already had it under control. But the victims? The victims could certainly use some widely spread information that the abusers already knew. Some insider notes, so to speak.
It is 2012 and you may be asking, why am I bringing up such an odd story from over a decade ago and how does this really relate to SOPA? This daterape.org incident is just one of many. It happens to be one I was personally involved in and so I can speak to it directly. The SOPA bill, in its transparency, fails to be simply about online piracy. Its title "To promote prosperity, creativity, entrepreneurship, and innovation by combating the theft of U.S. property, and for other purposes." already tosses in the 'other purposes' clause. The first wave of internet censorship is not a solitary wave -- it will be followed by many more and potentially a tidal wave that cripples internet uses entirely.
If free speech and expression are no longer allowed on the internet, where will we turn?
A site like daterape.org is controversial -- but sometimes it takes a controversy to wake up the masses and get them talking about real issues. Date rape is a big issue that gets brushed under the rug far too often. Free speech on the internet is one that keeps getting set aside and its proponents are wide and varied. Some feel that free speech is just a given -- why are we fighting, we can't actually ever LOSE that right, can we? And others feel that H.R. 3261 or S. 968 are about business, they don't have anything to do with free speech.
It has been said, if you lose all your other rights, it is with free speech that you can win them back, conversely, without free speech you will lose all your other rights.
I invite people to get informed and be active about which side you are on.
(for quick-access, here are two differing views:
http://www.wired.com/politics/law/news/2000/03/34941
http://www.fitug.de/debate/0003/msg00737.html
I'd like you to take particular note of the second link)
For my part, I believed the website to be a satire.
sat·ire noun /ˈsaËŒtÄ«r/ The use of humor, irony, exaggeration, or ridicule to expose and criticize people's stupidity or vices, particularly in the context of contemporary politics and other topical issues
It was SO over the top and in your face, how anyone could see it as something other than satire is mind-boggling to me. The first link up there gives you a pretty good idea of what was on the site. But it fails to mention some of the other things on the site -- like, directions to boys on their first date, including, for example, how to dismantle the inside of the car door handle so that it will open only from the outside. This one was a complete shocker to me! I had been on many internet dates, as I was twenty years old in the year 2000, but I had never in my wildest dreams conjured up the idea that I should check that the car I am getting into could be opened from the inside, after I was in -- I just assumed this was a given.
This website, from its first 500 viewers, managed to garner national and eventually global attention. What were people talking about? Several issues -- many of them were talking about the disgusting nature of the website, others were talking about freedom of speech on the internet, but one thing was being discussed that generally got very little air time: date rape.
Unfortunately, no matter the campaigns in high school, date rape is still extremely under reported, even though statistics show that it occurs frequently. According to safecity.ca a 1993 survey of female undergraduates at Canadian universities reported that "four out of five women said that they had been victims of violence in a relationship". That is 80% of the female populous, without taking into account men or same-sex partnerships.
This was just seven years before the 2000 website daterape.org came online. Who was daterape.org educating about the realities of daterape? Was it the offenders? Because with a pervasive influence such as 4 out of 5, it seems to me like the abusers already had it under control. But the victims? The victims could certainly use some widely spread information that the abusers already knew. Some insider notes, so to speak.
It is 2012 and you may be asking, why am I bringing up such an odd story from over a decade ago and how does this really relate to SOPA? This daterape.org incident is just one of many. It happens to be one I was personally involved in and so I can speak to it directly. The SOPA bill, in its transparency, fails to be simply about online piracy. Its title "To promote prosperity, creativity, entrepreneurship, and innovation by combating the theft of U.S. property, and for other purposes." already tosses in the 'other purposes' clause. The first wave of internet censorship is not a solitary wave -- it will be followed by many more and potentially a tidal wave that cripples internet uses entirely.
If free speech and expression are no longer allowed on the internet, where will we turn?
A site like daterape.org is controversial -- but sometimes it takes a controversy to wake up the masses and get them talking about real issues. Date rape is a big issue that gets brushed under the rug far too often. Free speech on the internet is one that keeps getting set aside and its proponents are wide and varied. Some feel that free speech is just a given -- why are we fighting, we can't actually ever LOSE that right, can we? And others feel that H.R. 3261 or S. 968 are about business, they don't have anything to do with free speech.
It has been said, if you lose all your other rights, it is with free speech that you can win them back, conversely, without free speech you will lose all your other rights.
I invite people to get informed and be active about which side you are on.
Saturday, January 21, 2012
I know me, but I don't know you, do you know me?
I am the expert of my own experience.
People often get into discussions with me on various topics, and I bring it to a personal level about my life and how that topic effects/works with my own experience. And then they say "I wasn't talking about you!" .. but the thing is, I can't talk in sweeping generalities because I have not lived those lives. I am talking to what I know. I think I am the one speaking to the best of the topic, by speaking my experiences, while the other complaining party is the one who is playing god somehow, as though THEY know what other people have lived or felt ....
Unless you walk a mile in my shoes, or their shoes, who are you to know what I've lived? So stop talking about your perception of other people, and talk about YOU! Maybe it gets to you because _I_ have actually lived a life, done things, been places, met people ... while most people live in their own little safe circle of existence, afraid to do more than throw words of hate outside the thin barrier of protection that familiarity offers.
Or maybe I'm just self-centered. *shrug*
People often get into discussions with me on various topics, and I bring it to a personal level about my life and how that topic effects/works with my own experience. And then they say "I wasn't talking about you!" .. but the thing is, I can't talk in sweeping generalities because I have not lived those lives. I am talking to what I know. I think I am the one speaking to the best of the topic, by speaking my experiences, while the other complaining party is the one who is playing god somehow, as though THEY know what other people have lived or felt ....
Unless you walk a mile in my shoes, or their shoes, who are you to know what I've lived? So stop talking about your perception of other people, and talk about YOU! Maybe it gets to you because _I_ have actually lived a life, done things, been places, met people ... while most people live in their own little safe circle of existence, afraid to do more than throw words of hate outside the thin barrier of protection that familiarity offers.
Or maybe I'm just self-centered. *shrug*
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