a torn journal entry

What do you do when nothing you're doing seems right? Like somehow you are going through the motions and they're all the correct ones for the acts being carried out, but somehow none of them are producing the immediately desired results? Am I just being too impatient -- good things come to those who work hard and build them -- fast things come fast and are gone just as fast...?!

I have had dreams and plans and hopes and desires all my life. this is one of the only times I have felt in control and that I WANT this to work out. I really, actually want to see it through, see the longevity of this project. I AM giving it my all because I want it to give me and Kyla a future.

Is that too much to ask? ...

I want to say no, truth is, I don't know? oi!

a torn journal entry

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.)

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!!)

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!

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?