"So, Now What?"

     I am at a point in my life where I’m standing at the proverbial precipice of the unknown; scared to death to look forward, down or even by my side, so I look back at how far I’ve come. I can vividly see the valleys, plains, hills, terrains, and mountains that I’ve long since walked. Some of the events I remember with such fond memories; but many other ones I still shudder with the deep knowledge of fear that I had most definitely have been protected while I walked “through the valley of the shadow of death.”

     But I did fear the evil; I’ll admit it. I suppose I should have been more valiant, courageous, faithful and appreciative. But I was terrified. Utterly paralyzed with panic of the darkness that surrounded me; I still don’t even know how I made it through them as intact as I am. Though I have many battle scars, most have healed better than I ever imagined they could. It was as if I was being tested or forged like steel like in the story of the fiery furnace of God.  And I didn’t like it; not one bit as Dr. Seuss would so eloquently put it.

     All I’ve ever wanted was a real family to belong to. I wanted to take care of them in a nice, cozy home with children laughing while playing around the freshly laundered clothes that blew in a nice breeze on the clothesline in our backyard. And I wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I desired to earn enough money writing to help support my family so my husband wouldn’t have to toil long hours away from home so we could raise our children together. I wanted an idyllic family life devoid of any problems, illnesses, or hardships. Insert sound effect of loud screeching of a needle being ripped across a thirty-three vinyl record here.

     I’ve long since learned that God has an odd sense of humor when it comes to our wants and needs; what He believes we need is often vastly different than what we deem them to be. And when things hit the fan, as they too often do in my life, I talk to Him about it. Many may call it praying, but it’s actually a real, gritty and probably too casual conversation that I have with Him. I’m sure that when I see Him, there will be some ‘splaining to do on my part. But what can I say? He’s my dad, so I must get my sense of humor from His side, no? I imagine Him smiling at my temper tantrums thinking, “Dear child o’mine if you only knew.” But I thank God I didn’t know what would happen beforehand. Somehow, some way, a miracle happens to me. Every day I wake up thinking, well, I didn’t die in my sleep, let’s do it. Other times I’m saved from the fiery pits of what I consider hell on earth. I find my credit card haphazardly stuffed in a receipt, deep in the recesses of my purse. Or my brakes didn’t go out on me while traveling at the speed of 70 miles per hour; they waited until I was at a stop sign before all four blew out after being tampered with. Sometimes it’s the little things, you know?

     As I’ve traveled throughout my life I’ve fallen down, been distracted, helped others, and tripped over ant hills, but I’ve managed to cover a lot of ground. They’re called life experiences. I’ve met a lot of friends I’ve otherwise wouldn’t have had the pleasure of knowing had I not ventured down certain roads. I have also encountered numerous wolves, but they were chased off before much damaged was inflicted upon me. I have meandered off the path to discover something new to bring with me when I finally found my way back on the trail I was traveling on. The offshoots weren’t always deliberate, nor were they always undesirable or wantonly devious. Sometimes I was impressed to go somewhere to help someone who was waiting for me to find them and bring them along with me for a while. And when they had to leave me to continue onward on their journey, I never forgot what I learned from them. I still miss them; well, I still miss most of them.

     So, here I stand, but not at a crossroad where I’ve been many times before and could choose which way to venture next. Now that I’ve experienced much and have been sufficiently strengthened I’m being nudged to deepen my convictions. Do I take a leap of faith, knowing that I will either spread my wings to learn to fly or that I will be caught in the arms of an angel to be carried across the deep chasm of the scary unknown? Or do I stand still, too frightened to move for fear of failure? What to do, what to do?

     Thankfully, I have been blessed with many very good, loving and intelligent people in my life that I call friends. They listen to me rant at all hours of the day and night, giving me comfort during heartbreaks or make me laugh until I snort while making my sides ache. They repeatedly tell me that I’m strong. My friends also tell me that I’m remarkably intelligent. I’m also apprised that I’m gracious and kind. But I know me a lot better than they do, and sometimes I am weak.  More often than not, I do stupid things that I should know not to do. And much to my chagrin, I can be cruel when I’m hurt or angry. Luckily, I am not prideful, at least not too much, because when I have wronged another I offer a sincere apology and try to rectify the damage I’ve done.

     During one conversation with a dear friend an analogy (that’s how God speaks to me) came to my mind. As I frequently do, I had to interrupt my friend with a special news bulletin. She cordially stopped speaking to listen to me, again. I quickly explain, something just occurred to me. What if I’m flailing about in water like a drowning person panicking for her life? I’m thinking, this is it, I’m dead. I can’t reach the shore; I’m too tired to swim any longer. The waves are too strong, too high, and too scary for me. And then I hear this very still and quiet voice whisper, “Stand up, little one.” No one is there, but I put my feet down anyway. I can stand. The waves wash over my shoulders, but they’re not splashing in my face any longer. I instantly think seriously? It was all an illusion? I’m not drowning? Another thought (voice or whatever) came to me that said “While you were learning to swim you also grew taller, wiser and stronger. What would have been over your head years ago is only at your shoulders now.” The panic subsided and I gave thanks. The idyllic life I have sought after my entire sojourn has been replaced with a more enriched and beautiful one that I would never have had the courage to live if I wasn’t shoved (thanks a lot) into it. I’ve soared over mountains, dived into deep crevices and walked over tough terrains I wouldn’t ever had the pleasure of experiencing because of fear. But I never soared, dove, or walked alone.

     So, here I am standing at this place of great despair, or what may very well be a daring adventure, kudos to my hero, Helen Keller. I look back over my shoulders again to see how far that I’ve traveled and I smile. I look from side to side and I see a multitude of friends encouraging me with their own smiles. I look down and think, “Well, what’s the worst thing that could happen to me?” And then I look up and say, “Okay, I’m ready to fly ~ So, now what?”

"Their Heart Is Still Tender and In of Need Compassion"

     For those who have chosen the field of domestic violence advocacy in order to help others, it's paramount to understand the HOW and the WHY anyone would *allow* themselves to be demoralized to the point of becoming victimized by abusers. The majority of abuse advocates have personally lived through some sort of this hell. There are way too many varying degrees of abuse to list them all in such a short blog. Indeed, volumes could fill the most massive libraries and still not fully contain the vast number differing stories of millions upon millions of victims’ stories; some of whom never had the chance to live long enough to share their bleak stories.

     Generally people don’t possess the ability to articulate abusive behaviors well to inform others how to adequately notice the proverbial “RED FLAGS” abusers refuse to carry and wave around to warn potential victims. The most vital information to learn about this message I’m writing is not to judge someone who has or is going through a similar situation. The utmost important advice I offer is to NOT continue the victimization of the victim because you will push him/her back (or deeper) into the abuse because of caustic, matter of fact and demeaning (though perhaps well intended) accusations of "I told you so." 

     At least with the abuser, the victim occasionally feels wanted, needed and loved. In order to break the cycle of abuse one must not feel judged or pitied by others. Instead offer hope, encouragement and a chance to allow the victim to come to terms of the relationship demise in time. Knowing they have a safe person who is willing to listen and bounce ideas off of so they do not feel so isolated by judgment that they return to hell where they know they will receive affection of some sort.

     Here’s the clincher, you can't possibly understand and/or fully comprehend what you don't know or haven’t experienced firsthand. Does anyone actually think that people look for others to harm them or their children on purpose? Aren’t the majority of noted serial killers adept at hiding their alter ego for years, even decades, regardless of countless experienced professionals who have been trained and educated to capture such heinous individuals? How can the average citizen know what they haven’t been trained to recognize?

     If you're to help, then empathize and allow the person to gain their sense of self before the barrage of "How dumb could you be?" and "I saw this coming a mile away!" Or anything else that will further alienates the victim. No one wants to be abused, feel worthless, or be isolated to the point of losing all hope.

     You don't know what path someone has been asked to walk in order to help another person. Perhaps some people were allowed to experience this kind of abuse in order to discover such important information as to share it with others who have experienced similar situations? It’s only after the storm, comes the understanding; as faith nearly always proceeds the miracle.

     Support the person experiencing the hell without judgment or condescending remarks.
Chances are you will only further traumatize the victim so that she/he won't ever be able to move on to become a survivor and then eventually a “thriver.” Curb your tongue, regardless of how well-meaning you are attempting to be. Everything negative comment is exasperated when the person is early in the recovery phrase. And know that love can heal a multitude of hurts.

     Also please remember that every single person who has breathed has sinned. We all just don't sin the same way. God bless those who have endured the wrath of hell. Many others wouldn't be able to survive nearly as intact as those who have been tested in the fiery furnace of domestic abuse. They're much stronger than you can imagine; but their heart is still tender and in need compassion, not condescension.  “It is strange how often a heart must be broken before the years can make it wise” ~ Sara Teasdale

"Aren't We All Just a Lil’ Bit Broken?" ~ Pamela Jey

     There may come a time in your life when you may stop and think, “What the hell am I doing?” or “Why am I still doing/thinking/dealing with this?” If you belong to any social network (and unless you belong to some aboriginal tribe in the middle of nowhere, you do; even if you don’t want to admit it) you have read something along the lines, ‘regardless of your past, due to your parents or other events beyond your control, you are in charge of your own life, so stop blaming others for your life now.’ But how true is that statement?  Sure, as a child you have no control over much of anything that you have to endure or events that have taken place, but what happens when you finally reach adulthood? Does that actually change anything? Do you automatically forgive everyone for all the trials and adversities that they have put you through? Do you finally come to the mysterious understanding of why your parents, siblings, extended family, friends, neighbors, teachers, etc. acted the way they did?  Have you suddenly discovered the meaning of life, along with the reasons of why people act or do things that weren’t or aren’t socially acceptable when you’ve reached adulthood?

     What do you do, when you know beyond a shadow of a doubt, things went terribly wrong somewhere? Though it wasn’t your fault, you want to cease and desist to all of the hurt, confusion, and somehow find a way to make SENSE of why it happened to end the nonsense so you don’t repeat the same mistakes? Few have lived such an idyllic life that they can look back upon their childhood with nothing but sweet nostalgia. For those select few, I applaud your exceptional reminisces because most people I’ve encountered haven’t had the same advantages of sweet, cherished childhood memories. Such are the things that make for good marketing in our society; the love of a good family. Two parents who adore one another and express it through their actions which are replicated in their children. And we are bombarded daily with images, commercials, movies, etc. of how life SHOULD be. But we are even more overwhelmed with many television shows, magazines, newspapers, television, etc. of how life actually is for the majority of people around the globe.

     Who is willing to step up to stop the anguish and torment??? Who is man or woman enough to admit that they are hurting and they just want it to end, right now, at any cost? Who is able to withstand the onslaught of continued abuse, knowing the person who is assaulting her is lashing out because of his own personal suffering, but she chooses not to retaliate because she understands the source of his pain? Look around at your friends, acquaintances, loved ones, co-workers and see them for who they actually are; not for what they are reacting to. Can you take a moment and step into their shoes? Can you sense their fears, failures, or unfulfilled dreams? Can you empathize with their past? Can you comfort them in their time of need? Or do you judge them inadequate because of your own abilities? Have you ever felt the pain of feeling totally worthless? Do you wonder if anyone would cry if you died today?

     Chances are you have had many people who have come into your life to validate you and your life. They have tried in their own way, no matter how inept you may perceive it to be, to love you for who you are, regardless of what you’ve done or what was done to you.  How many people have you turned away because you felt unworthy to receive love because you never understood what true love was? How can someone possibly love you when you can’t even love yourself?  Whether you believe in God, or whatever higher power you acknowledge and give whatever name to it that you do, He has sent many to let you know that you are not a mistake. You are important. Your life is valued by more people than you could ever imagine. But for some reason you cannot believe that you’re appreciated by anyone because you don’t suppose you deserve it.

     I’ve recently come across a wonderful analogy by an unknown author: “Grab a plate and throw it to the ground. Okay, done. Did it break? Yes. Now say sorry to it. Sorry. Did it go back to the way it was before? No. Do you UNDERSTAND?” This is nothing short of epic in describing how people get hurt time and again by others; whether or not it was intentional. Something said or done can only be apologized for after the injury or injustice has occurred; however, that bell (offense) can never be un-rung (undone). The scars remain on the sufferer long after the acts of transgression have been forgotten. Most people develop a strategy for disregarding their sorrows in order to survive. They push down their feelings to hide their pain behind smiles, acts of kindness, humor or through other means to deflect their wounds so others can’t see how truly broken they are. Only the wise that have also experienced similar travails can see their pain, whereas the majority only sees the smile.

     A legend of the Japanese art of kintsugi illustrates that one may be able to transform grievous breeches into exquisite restorations; thereby the damaged vessel is actually superior to a new one. The analogy of something being broken then transformed into a beautiful work of art is applicable in our own lives. By forgiving others, whether or not they deserve it, allow us to fill in the crevices crudely left behind by others. Forgiveness isn’t for “them” it’s actually for us. Developing sympathy and empathy towards others, as a form of kintsugi, makes us more precious than we had been beforehand. The degree of mortification to one’s spirit is diverse as the populaces on earth. The hell of one person’s experiences may only be an inconvenience to another; which is why we should not judge other’s struggles as trivial or absurd. We all have been hurt. We all have suffered in some degree. We all have cried out in pain. We all have felt utterly alone. Don’t ever forget what these things feel like when you may be tempted to judge another in their moments of weakness. Because, after all, aren’t we all just a lil’ bit broken?