“When someone is hard on you it may have very little to do with you.” ― Bryant McGill
Torrents of disparagement spoil little comforts that came in the soft hands of a woman. In hidden gifts her bounty is made known to searching eyes. Holding nothing but feeling everything, imagination lights passion’s blaze in the deep recesses of cold homes. With no names and no kisses, a sole burning heat sears lust’s consummation of the unholy matrimony. Were there rings one could understand, were there concern, one could live peaceably, but in the mix of questions and longings, agonies and danger, love exists only in the breath of heavy sighs. Hardened hearts learn to feel through calloused emotion, tenderness never an option unless it leads to satisfaction of an aching in the loins or the soothing of a searching heart.
“If you feel lost, disappointed, hesitant, or weak, return to yourself, to who you are, here and now and when you get there, you will discover yourself, like a lotus flower in full bloom, even in a muddy pond, beautiful and strong.” ― Masaru Emoto, Secret Life of Water
Walking through the question marks
Where will I go in this dark?
With the light dimming behind
How will I go being blind?
Screaming in my head, holding the candle near
Where will I go from here?
The path is crooked with cliffs along the way
Fear says never to go but only to stay
When there’s no sight from lack of light there remains no assurance in the steps. My soul’s being torn between ravenous beasts manifested by my torment. Faith, will you save me now? Will you come on the white horse of sanity and redeem my soul? These wasps follow me, stinging me where ever I go. I can hear the buzz of their wings while I sleep. There’s no healing from the swelling injections filled with the puss of their rape. What parts of me have died or are dying? Why can’t I tell? I know that bricks are missing in my wall and deleterious eyes stare at me from the holes. With all of this hell raging in and around me, I call out, as we all do in the foxholes of life, “GOD HELP ME”! He will, but how, it escapes me, but when, it eludes me, and in this moment I hang to what I know from His dealings with me in the past. I know He’ll help me, I know He’ll come, I know I’ll survive and be stronger yet for the next wave of human devils and demon thoughts.
Domestic violence and emotional abuse are behaviors used by one person in a relationship to control the other. Partners may be married or not married; heterosexual, gay, or lesbian; living together, separated or dating. Examples of abuse include:
name-calling or putdowns
keeping a partner from contacting their family or friends
stopping a partner from getting or keeping a job
actual or threatened physical harm
Violence can be criminal and includes physical assault (hitting, pushing, shoving, etc.), sexual abuse (unwanted or forced sexual activity), and stalking. Although emotional, psychological and financial abuse are not criminal behaviors, they are forms of abuse and can lead to criminal violence.
The violence takes many forms and can happen all the time or once in a while. An important step to help yourself or someone you know in preventing or stopping violence is recognizing the warning signs listed on the “Violence Wheel.”
ANYONE CAN BE A VICTIM!Victims can be of any age, sex, race, culture, religion, education, employment or marital status. Although both men and women can be abused, most victims are women. Children in homes where there is domestic violence are more likely to be abused and/or neglected. Most children in these homes know about the violence. Even if a child is not physically harmed, they may have emotional and behavior problems.
If you are being abused, REMEMBER
You are not alone
It is not your fault
Help is available
COMMON MYTHS AND WHY THEY ARE WRONG
Domestic violence is not a problem in my community.
Michigan State Police records from 1997 show that a woman is killed by a partner or former partner about once a week in Michigan.
In 1998, the Michigan State Police reported more than 5,000 victims of domestic violence in Oakland County.
Domestic violence only happens to poor women and women of color.
Domestic violence happens in all kinds of families and relationships. Persons of any class, culture, religion, sexual orientation, marital status, age, and sex can be victims or perpetrators of domestic violence.
Some people deserve to be hit.
No one deserves to be abused. Period. The only person responsible for the abuse is the abuser.
Physical violence, even among family members, is wrong and against the law.
Alcohol, drug abuse, stress, and mental illness cause domestic violence.
Alcohol use, drug use, and stress do not cause domestic violence; they may go along with domestic violence, but they do not cause the violence. Abusers often say they use these excuses for their violence. (Michigan Judicial Institute, Domestic Violence Benchbook, 1998, p. 1.6 – 1.7)
Generally, domestic violence happens when an abuser has learned and chooses to abuse. (Michigan Judicial Institute, Domestic Violence Benchbook, 1998, p. 1 – 5)
Domestic violence is rarely caused by mental illness, but it is often used as an excuse for domestic violence. (Michigan Judicial Institute, Domestic Violence Benchbook, 1998, p. 1 – 8)
Domestic violence is a personal problem between a husband and a wife.
Domestic violence affects everyone.
About 1 in 3 American women have been physically or sexually abused by a husband or boyfriend at some point in their lives. (Commonwealth Fund, Health Concerns Across a Woman’s Lifespan: the Commonwealth Fund 1998 Survey of Women’s Health, 1999)
In 1996, 30% of all female murder victims were killed by their husbands or boyfriends. (Federal Bureau of Investigation, 1997)
40% to 60% of men who abuse women also abuse children. (American Psychological Association, Violence and the Family, 1996)
If it were that bad, she would just leave.
There are many reasons why women may not leave. Not leaving does not mean that the situation is okay or that the victim want to be abused.
Leaving can be dangerous. The most dangerous time for a woman who is being abused is when she tries to leave. (United States Department of Justice, National Crime Victim Survey, 1995)MANY VICTIMS DO LEAVE AND LEAD SUCCESSFUL, VIOLENCE FREE LIVES.
“A perverse man spreads strife, And a slanderer separates intimate friends.” – Proverbs 16:28
“It is more shameful to distrust our friends than to be deceived by them.” – Confucius
My mind’s intrigued with fickle people concerned only with the direction of the winds of gossip. They blow this way and that, regardless of the benefit given by myself. I’m wary of this crowd, of the hearty followers, of the “humble” acquaintances in my life, for those by my side in friendship today are at my throat, without hesitation, tomorrow. All that’s required for this shift from friend to foe is discomfort in their lives. Whether financial, physical, or social unrest, it gives them impetus to turn the trust into a sword and cut without mercy. “He deserves it because….” – this is the mantra that sears their conscience. They’re masters in this game, the game of turning the opinions of those around me to their benefit. It’s no disgrace this art of war, but it bears repeating tha those closest to me, those I help the most, will grow to hate me, if for no other reason than I have and they have not. Despising that they asked for my help, or owe me something, or just hate that I excel in some way, they desire to quench their envy and jealousy by disposing the one to whom they are so envious or indebted. These master players will be burned by their own hand and it won’t be long after starting many fires that they’ll make a mistake and corner themselves with the flames. As for me, I learn to encourage myself, and with this one thing I’ll rise above the petty crowd – after all the hate shown towards me, I’ll still be good to people and serve my friends and leaders with undying loyalty.
“Their screams would echo through the house and reverberate against my eardrums until my mind would fracture. Years went by and with each fracture; I lost a piece of my soul until I became lost and empty inside.”
― J.D. Stroube, Caged in Darkness
My lover, you followed me on lost paths, chasing my longings deeper, before I turned and saw, you’re not there. The pieces I broke off to mark my exit you ate and then flew away, without any words, disappearing in hollows of echoing woods. I know my soul’s alone by the absence of those missing pieces. How can they be gone, slipped into an eternity of forgetfulness, or thoughtlessness, pushed there by denial and an intense effort to pretend you didn’t happen, unless they were born at sometime in the messy afterbirth of a mind gone mad? If I let my thoughts take these updrafts of imagination, to soar above this wilderness of lore, I’ll see you again. The pain’s breathtaking, should I plunge back below to the feigned wellness of peace? Or perhaps, stay on these heated gestures of reaching and slip into the coldness of space losing the oxygen of you, and with tears and reluctant release my light will dim and finally extinguish.
“Women are like tricks by sleight of hand, Which, to admire, we should not understand. – WILLIAM CONGREVE, Love for Love
“The plainest man who pays attention to women, will sometimes succeed as well as the handsomest man who does not.” – CHARLES CALEB COLTON, Lacon
The attentions of a woman make me feel alive and vibrant with power. Like a crashing wave, her look and positive glance wash over my life leave me with a feeling of satisfaction. What curse am I under? The power in her movement captivates me and stops my whole world to see her for a moment on the miraculous hinge of change, all it takes is her reaction. If she likes me, pays me some attention, then peace and excitement in abundance. If she turns away, her rejection ignites a fire, inciting a riot of feelings in my body. Though heaven call and hell reach, nothing matters but her at that moment. There’s no end to the amazing things that I’ll put my body and mind through to see her smile. Not just a special her, but the one that has stopped my heart from proceeding with its mundane tasks. Dropped to my knees, not by an amazing model, rare and fleeting, but by that woman who holds herself with such confidence and sexuality that I find a smell of desire wafting across the room to bring me to my knees. I’ve stumbled down the steep paths of self-esteem, yet to know she’s there, watching with interest, gives me the most incredible lift. This hawk takes to an empowering thermal desire and rises to heights unreachable when you, sweet woman, give me your smile.