Putting My Stories Into Words

It is nearly the end of the month, and I’ve been struggling to come up with the words to put together a post for Domestic Violence Awareness Month. While scrolling through my Facebook memories yesterday, I was reminded that 7 years ago in October of 2012,  I was living in New Jersey when Hurricane Sandy hit the area where I lived. I didn’t have work for more than a week, as my office was without power.. I was at home, alone during that storm, but I shouldn’t have been.  My Ex, after learning of the impending storm, asked if he could take my car (it was the only reliable car we had) to Massachusetts to see his son. I begged him not to go, but he didn’t care that I would be home alone during a hurricane, he kept telling me that it wasn’t going to be a big deal, I was overreacting. So, I was stuck at home for 10 days alone- no power, during a hurricane that destroyed my neighborhood, with my house left standing. I had neighbors who lost cars, and portions of their home due to downed trees and water damage. But my house was not impacted. (Unless you count the weird issue I had with the breaker box when the power came back on. I ended up asking my Facebook feed for some electrical assistance, and got that fixed myself- but I got in “trouble” for daring to ask a man who wasn’t my Ex to help me figure it out.) So, I was without power for a week... I had my exes truck, which I used to charge the battery on my cellphone and my work Blackberry. I read a lot of books by candle light, the dog and I stared at each other a lot... and I didn’t have a coffee for something ridiculous like six days... because none of the stores, or Dunkin Donuts near me had power either. (As an aside, the town I lived in had no independent coffee shop. It was a travesty. I hope they’ve since remedied that.) I couldn’t take the risk of driving to an area that had power either, because the gas stations were limiting the amount of people who could gas their vehicles up, or get gas for generators... and all of the gas stations were running out of gas- and most of the major bridges were shut down, so no deliveries were coming through. It was one of the craziest times of my entire life... and I got through it, by myself. This may not seem like a big deal to most of you- but I tell this story, because most of what I endured during that relationship, I endured alone. I was silent about the abuse that I dealt with every single day. Because I was ashamed. Because I literally didn’t have anyone to turn to. (I could have called my family at any time... but I knew they would convince me to come home, and I didn’t want to at the time. I had a great career, I was making good money.. I loved where I lived, and the proximity it provided for everything I loved.) I was afraid. I was afraid that if I ended that relationship, he would hurt me. Whether or not they were empty threats, he told me at least a dozen times that he would kill me. He said a lot of things- really. That my family hated me. That my mother always played the victim, and that my sisters excluded me from family things on purpose. He brainwashed me into believing that he was the only person who cared about me... that he was the only one who had my back. Then, once he built that wall of lies, he would start to tear me down- tell me that I didn’t style my hair the way I should, that he didn’t like the style of clothes I wore- that I would be prettier if I did this, or that... that I should work out more, it would make me feel better. And I believed him, because he was the only one who cared about me. My favorite thing he used to say though, was that I would never ever date anyone else who was as hot as he was. You know what’s hot to me? Work ethic. Kindness. Financial Responsibility. Respect. Honesty. Literally none of those descriptors are things that I can say my Ex had for personality traits of his own.

But I digress.

This life has forced me to be independent. That relationship caused me an immense amount of PTSD, that has bled into the rest of my life. I recognize traits in others that are similar to those that my Ex carried as weapons. Narcissism. Gaslighting. Manipulation. When I recognized that I was actually being harassed by a supervisor at my job, I brought it to the attention  my employer- who ignored it. When I told them I felt like I was being subjected to a hostile work environment, they ignored that too. When I let them know that they had allowed him to retaliate against me for bringing  it to their attention- they also ignored that. So- as the independent woman I am, I started interviewing for new jobs. I took a VERY large pay-cut to get out of that toxic work environment- but as of this month, I’m out. I’m working in a very different environment, and I couldn’t be happier. Poorer, but still happier.

Most people find change to be challenging. The unknowns, the uncertainties, the upheaval- but one thing is for certain, the one constant we can depend on in life is change. I have embraced the change in my life. You can either allow your circumstances to make you bitter, or make you better. I have always chosen to allow them to make me better. Despite what others may think- talking about my trauma has made me better. I’m not talking about what happened to me because I’m bitter- I talk about it so that others may understand that they are not alone. Tell your stories, people. You don’t know who may be helped by what you have to say.