I would have thought that I would feel safe after he was gone.
I would have thought that I would do things for my own personal achievements, rather than out of fear of a second party reaction.
I would have thought I would be healed.
Although I was one who was abused, I thought I would automatically get better after what happened.
I’m still being abused.
Not by his hands or words, but what was changed in my head.
I have an unrealistic view of what perfection as a wife, mother and woman should be. No matter how hard I could have tried, I could have never pleased him. Logic tells me that his mind was sick so I can just dismiss everything that was said and done. Instinct tells me another story.
When the house isn’t clean, I worry about the consequences.
When I don’t say the right thing, I worry about the consequences.
When I fail at a task I have set before myself, I am gripped in paralyzing fear.
Although my abuser is gone, I haven’t been released. I have taken up where he left off and abusing myself because that is what I know.
I look in the mirror and I am ugly, fat and undesirable.
I cook a meal and I forgot the pepper and I am a horrible cook.
I speak or write and I am stupid, uneducated and foolish.
Our heads are funny things. We can hear 10,000 positive things about us; yet we cling to the one negative thing that has been said. No matter what we succeed in; we fret ourselves over our failures.
It’s not being a past “victim”; it’s being “victimized.”
It’s acknowledging that someone took advantage of them being stronger and bent me against my will. Stripped me of the power of confidence. Caused me to be blind to what reality is. I am trying hard to accept that I am a statistic of PTSD. I have to reassure myself constantly that I am safe.
Being remarried is a trigger. It automatically places me in roles that lended itself to abuse in the past. I have had to give credence to the fact that although my new husband is in my heart; my abuser is still in my head.
I have to acknowledge in all my pretension of being strong; I am a battered woman.
Although I am battered woman, I am trying to believe that I am OK. Its waking up every morning and praying that I will be whole. Its acknowledging to my husband that I am weak. Its allowing him to comfort me and reassure me.
If you have ever been abused, don’t feel guilty that you can’t let go of the fear. As a victim you had to let go of what is rational and you began to rely on instinct. Your mind was trained to see things differently and that’s a hard thing to change. It isn’t going to happen overnight. I’m not too sure it ever goes away completely, but you can make steps to begin to heal.
I know this because of the verse “As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you. – Isaiah 66:13″
Sometimes my children cry out to me in the night. They saw a monster in their room. It’s not really there. It’s all in their head, yet I comfort them and reassure them that they are safe. I acknowledge their fear; rational or not. I picture this as God dealing with my heart. Sometimes I cry out because of the monsters that aren’t really there, but are in my head. I feel his comfort and reassurance that I am safe. It doesn’t mean I will never dream of a monster, but that I am safe and comforted when I do. I have to acknowledge my own fears; rational or not. They are there and I am fighting mad to beat them.