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.

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!

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?

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.

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.

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.)

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?