Surviving

This is what I deserve!

Why can't I just die!

Dear God, please help me!

These are just a few of the thoughts that raced through my mind during the darkest hours of my abuse. I felt the pain was justified. I believed that Karma was just delivering overdue blows to my body and soul. I believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had no right to peace or happiness. The pain that was inflicted upon me helped to bury the deep hurt in my broken heart. If someone had asked me five or ten years before, or even immediately preceding the start of the abuse to answer the question; why do women stay in abusive relationships? I would have told you it was because they were weak, stupid, and lac a real backbone. As usual, the universe afforded me the unfortunate, albeit life-changing insight into the complex issue of mental and physical abuse. As a direct result of my drug addiction I found myself living on the street, alone and scared. I desperately searched for someone to love and protect me from the mayhem and chaos I was engulfed in. The man I thought had been sent to save me, was in reality, dispatched to destroy the last of my self-respect, self-esteem, and any semblance of dignity that I had left.

At times the evil, twisted things he said to me, and the way he cut me down felt like hot burning knives cutting me to my very core. He degraded me, he raped me and he even tried killing me on several occasions. Yet, sadly I didn’t leave. A few times I tried to disappear, hoping to never be seen again. Then like a moth to the flame, I would return to endure yet another round. I suppose I did not want to admit that I had been lied to, that I was failing at yet another “relationship” if you can call it that. I felt that it must have been my fault. I should have acted better. It is unbelievable just how misguides the commentary can become in the mind of someone who is abused. I was a victim not only to this man, but to my own psyche in my never-ending battle to find some comfort.

Things got so bad, that I could see no way out except to end everything. I figured why would anyone want to help a pitiful, homeless drug addict anyway?

I knew I wouldn’t have the guts to shoot myself, saving enough of my drug of choice to give me enough to kill myself was impossible, I didn’t have the self-control to hold on to it. So, the only option I could come up with was to hang myself. I found a length of rope in the back of an old pickup truck parked not far from the cheap motel we were staying in for the moment. I snuck away and I found a tree near some abandoned buildings, I figured by the time someone found me it would be too late. I took a moment to pencil out a suicide note of sorts, apologizing to everyone I had ever hurt. My ex-husband, my children, and God for being such a failure. I fashioned a noose out of the rope, tied one end over the tree, climbed on an overturned garbage can, summoned my courage and, jumped. Within moments, things went dark……Ahhhhhh sweet release.

That was until I woke up several days later in the hospital, neck sore, and head aching not to mention full of questions and anger, such anger! Why had God let me live? When the Dr. arrived to take a look at me and discuss my future I asked him what the hell happened. He told me that someone had found me and called 911. He told me if this person had found me 5 min later I would have been dead. (Well lucky me) I thought.

I told the Dr., “lucky” would have been if I never woke up. This is NOT lucky! I do not want to be here. I am done. I cannot take any more of this. He told me, young lady, you have a beautiful life ahead of you, you just need to get yourself together. And how am I supposed to do that? He smiled kindly and told me, someone would be in to talk to me.

That’s when I met my angel. Maria, a social worker specializing in domestic violence and drug addiction. She worked to help me get into a shelter, where I was able to learn that women and men who fall victim to domestic violence are not weak, they are actually very strong, because no matter how horrendous the abuse, they survive. I began a journey that has carried me over so many winding roads. Through my travels, over the years, I have met many survivors of domestic violence and drug addiction and have been blessed to hear so many beautiful encouraging stories of change and new life. I have seen first hand how darkness can morph into light.

If any of you are suffering from Domestic Violence Please reach out to any of the many agencies in your area that are willing to help.