Tag Archives: Memories

Diary of An Abused Woman Part 3

The diary entry that follows is purely fictional. None of the situations expressed are linked to actual persons living or dead. Although some things may resemble actual events, the intent is not to relay a true diary but a fictional character that can express many different stories of women who have been abused. The intent is merely to bring awareness from the inside out since we mostly see abused women from the outside looking in.

Trigger warning – The content below contains wording which may be triggering to domestic abuse survivors.

DVAM-with-Purple-Ribbon

Diary Thursday October 22, 2015

I can’t do this anymore. Why couldn’t I just stay with that sweet woman who was so kind to me? I just didn’t feel like I belonged there. She was so good to me. It is so cold and rainy tonight but I am thankful for the church shelter. The cot is uncomfortable but it’s better than sleeping in the rain on the cold ground. My thoughts are all over the place tonight. I keep thinking about that woman, she really wanted to help me. She gave me a brand new outfit and I had the best shower at her house. Her guest room was so beautiful and she was willing to let me stay as long as I wanted but I didn’t want to be a blemish in her beautiful home. I don’t deserve such kindness, I don’t deserve to have anyone care about me. She understood me though, she had her own story but I couldn’t grasp the idea that she had really been through what I have been through. She was too happy. She just oozed with an inexplicable joy. I can’t relate to that.

Are you kidding me? These people in here are ridiculous. Don’t people understand rules? Two people just got escorted out by the police because they started fighting. I hate to see people fight, it brings back so many awful memories. I’m not going to be able to sleep now. I just want my life back. I just want to be able to function without going back to those memories. Will they haunt me forever? I can’t even see to write anymore because the tears won’t stop. I can’t stand it that every little thing triggers the pain and memories. Oh God if you can hear me, would you please help me sleep tonight?

Diary Tuesday October 27, 2015

I am so discouraged today. I feel like my life is going down the toilet. God seems very distant and I feel like I have been dropped into a ditch somewhere and left to rot. Who am I to think that I should get special treatment from anyone or think that anyone should care or want to sympathize with the fact that I am struggling today, I am at the end of my proverbial rope and I cannot see any hands reaching out to help me. I don’t know what to do, what to think, what to feel, how to respond. I just know that I am a walking zombie right now. I am going through the motions of life only because I am familiar with the day-to-day schedule. Everything I do is only achieved because I have been doing it for so long that it is a habit. I wake up, I survive, I cry, I sleep and I wake up to do it all over again.

I have prayed but probably not enough. I’m just not getting to the place where I can let go and just be. My mind is constantly moving and I’m always thinking and going over things in my mind. The abuse I sustained, the abuse my daughter sustained, my daughter’s death, the verbal abuse all around, other people, the whole scenario. I am nowhere near being stable in my emotions and I am horribly aware of that to the point where I am terrorized in my dreams even. I have no friends to share my pain with and I have no one who would even care to listen to me at that.

I don’t know. I just feel like my guts have been ripped out of my body and strewn all over the place and I can’t put it all back together. I feel hopeless and miserable. Hello! Can someone hear me? Can anyone hear my pain? Can anyone help me? I doubt it sincerely. The only hope I used to have was God. He is so distant right now. Or at least that’s how I feel. But it could be my fault too because maybe I’m not listening for Him as closely as I should and maybe I can’t be still long enough to know that He even exists. Maybe this is a time in my life where I just have to learn to be lonely.

Diary Thursday October 29, 2015

My mind just races with all these thoughts and I can’t make them stop. Maybe that is why I can’t hear the voice of God when He speaks. But how do I stop the voice in my head. I mean it’s me, it’s my thoughts, it’s my concerns, it’s my pain, my memories, my logic trying to make sense of it all. It’s me and how do I stop me? How can I flip the switch on my thought processes to make them work differently. I can be talking about one thing and thinking about a totally different thing. It’s ridiculous. Then of course when I talk about anything in my life, here comes the flood of tears. Who wants to hear me talk? Who cares that I cry all the time? No one cares. I used to have friends, not many but a few that I could actually call friends but they have all disappeared. Why is everyone so afraid to ask me what is wrong? Why is it that I can ask someone about their problems but no one can ask me?  No one wants to really ask me, How are you? and actually expects a truthful answer.

I can’t take this anymore. This life of running to and from shelters while battling these tormenting thoughts in my head. All these people around me have their own stories. They all have their pain, their bruises, their wounds and yet no one really cares about any of us. Just give us a cot and some slop to eat and maybe a warm blanket. Why did I leave from the one place where I felt safe if only for just one night? Why couldn’t I receive the love that she was so desperately trying to show me? Why can’t I hear God anymore? I used to be so close to God, once upon a time. I cannot even raise my eyes to look up to see if God is waiting for me to come back to Him. No, no, no I am not worth His time. I am not worth anyone’s time. The one good thing about me being suicidal is that my fear of death outweighs my wish to die.

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June Memories Part 1

The month of June holds much significance in my life. It’s a month of remembering great loss and new beginnings. I truly believe the Lord strips away another layer of sorrow and loss from my life every year. Twenty five years ago my brother and I lost our mother. I was twenty two and my brother was four and a half. I know with all my heart that God prepared me ahead of time for her death. I really didn’t understand it and found myself taking blame where I truly had no control. 

I recall the morning quite vividly as I was braiding my daughters hair getting her ready to see her great grandmother on her father’s side. One of my uncles came to my house to tell me that my mother had died and my first response was “Don’t play with me like that!” but his response stopped me cold. There I was holding my daughters hair in a half braid and his words pierced through me like a long dull spear. “Do you think I came over here to tell you a f’n joke?” Then he broke down crying. All I could do was sit there. 

I don’t really remember feeling any emotion, I became instantly numb. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. Surely there was a hidden camera somewhere and this was a sick joke. 

My uncle drove me to my grandmothers house and when I got out of the car my little brother came running toward me. He put his little arms around my legs and looked up at me with big serious eyes and declared “the fan killed our mommy”. He associated her cold body with the fan that was blowing on her through the night. His words shattered my unbelief and I knew it was true. Our mom was gone. 

The last time I saw my mother alive was right after Mother’s Day when I brought my daughters to see her and my grandmother. We had some serious conversations that day about my life. My life was a mess during that time. I lied to her about something that day and she knew I lied but never let on that she knew. The day she died that lie haunted me. It kept ringing in my head. I felt like such a terrible person. 

So much happened that weekend and throughout the next week in preparation for the funeral. I had several conversations with family members who shed light on many things that I might not had known about my mom. I’m grateful to those family members. 

My mother and I had a huge fall out about nine months prior to her death. I didn’t speak to her for three months. Then one day I just knew I had to make amends with her. It was right before Christmas that I stopped by to see her and as I look back today I am so thankful. I’ve never been one to hold grudges long and three months was a long time to be mad at my mother. 

I was pregnant with my son when mom passed and I knew I had to keep my emotions in check. My great aunt died when I was pregnant with my second daughter and  I became so depressed through that pregnancy that it affected my daughter. She was one crying child and didn’t like anyone! I couldn’t let that happen again. So I grieved for my mom for one day and let it go. Truly I don’t know how that happened but it did. I read the entire New Testament of the Bible over the next months and I’m sure that helped. 

Over the next seven years I allowed myself to grieve twice a year, on her birthdate and her death date. It was a long process. I cannot say I will ever truly be over the loss of my mother at a time when I really needed her. My brother needed her more. He was so young and would not have the memories that I had. She loved my brother so much. I thought he would be able to have the childhood I didn’t have with her. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

Today I think of my mom and wish I had one last phone call, one last hug, one last kiss, one last bag of popcorn and sweet tea, one last Chinese dinner, one last laugh, one last cry, one last chance to hear her yell at my dad to buy us dinner, one last chance to see her smile.

I love you mom.