Human violence

Tags

Abuse, Assault, GO! Smell The Flowers, Human rights, Post-traumatic stress, PTSD, Violence, Violence against women

Over at the irrepressible Go! Smell The Flowers blog, one of the regular contributors “Aussie Cynic” (aka A/C aka Kesa) has written a post titled “Go On! Speak Out!“.

The topic is International Human Rights Day and International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women.

Something kinda close to my heart.

A/C asked some questions at the end of her impassioned post… True to form, in response I wrote a small essay in the comments, and I asked A/C if it’d be cool if reproduced those comments here.

Note: I’ve cleaned it up a little (and fixed the typos).

Without further ado, here’s my long and rambling response…

****

Violence against women… well, one particular woman – me – is the very reason my blog was born.

It’s my creative outlet for all of the pain, terror, trauma, repression, depression and post-traumatic stress I’ve been dealt as a result of someone’s inability to control themselves one night just over three years ago.

So the topic of violence (and like Gareth rightly pointed out, not just male against female violence, but I’d also add in same gender violence too for that matter) is one I’ve been particularly close to for some time.

Why is Violence and Abuse allowed to continue?

I don’t think it’s a case of violence and abuse being allowed to continue. It happens because human nature is as it is. Within us all is the fight or flight mechanism.

For those people without enough maturity and awareness – physical, mental and emotional abuse are ways those people feel more in control, less fearful. And sadly it becomes a pattern for them, a way of coping with whatever is thrown in their direction.

Why we must put up with such disgusting behaviour?

We don’t have to put up with this behaviour.

He only got one shot at me, just that one night – the next day I put a protection order in place. But the internal damage had already set in. There’s been a huge toll in the rebuilding from that time.

And let me say (in case you hadn’t already guessed) that I’m not one of those lay down and take it types. I’ve fought for my healing really hard and I’ve been incredibly surprised at how long it’s taken to regain a certain level of emotional balance.

I never thought PTSD could happen as a result of an incident like mine. I thought it happened to people who’d lived through a war or a major disaster. But, clearly that’s not the case. PTSD is a very real and frightening phenomena… and it’s pretty friggin rough on the body, mind and soul.

Cruelly, the balance I’d achieved after three long years has been thrown out of whack only very recently, with another repressed memory surfacing and dragging everything I thought I’d dealt with back to the surface. More PTSD: unexpected, unwelcome, unwanted. There’s no warning. It comes when it comes.

It’s been incredibly humbling and painful to realise it’s not all over yet. Not that I thought it was all completely over – I know I have major trust issues with men – but I thought I was through the worst of emotional/mental trauma and turmoil.

My brain is only just recovering from the very ‘jelly-like’ state that a PTSD episode turns it into.

And I’m back seeing my very helpful therapist.

But none of it makes sense and everything – I mean everything – hurts. The panic attacks that go with those episodes? Have to be felt to be believed. After months of freedom from this itchy scalp condition I had for years, it’s returned overnight (fear, panic, anxiety, trauma causing physical reactions).

Why as women do we not stand up and say NO MORE!

Women can and do say no – but its really cultural conditioning enmasse that people must work to change. Before I was assaulted, I could’ve never understood the impact such a thing can have on someone’s life.

I’m guessing that’s the case for a whole lot of other people in the world too. They are complacent via ignorance – that sort of violence has never touched their lives and they can’t imagine why its important to really instil in their children the supreme wrongness of it all.

Why do women suffer in silence too scared to speak out?

Good question… I’m a smart, sassy, independent woman with a great career in the digital arena. Before this, I never ever considered something like this could happen to me. Until it did. And people can tell you “its not your fault” a million times, but there’s a huge degree of shame and fear that goes along with this sort of experience.

Shame – How could this happen to me? Why didn’t I know better? How is it I couldn’t see what he was like (and believe me, he showed no signs of being a violent type before this one night)?

Fear – I don’t want people to feel sorry for me. I don’t want them to judge me as weak. I don’t want to be taken advantage of (there are people who pray on those in a vulnerable state). I don’t want to be looked upon as ‘different’ for what happened to me.

Why do we allow those committing Abuse to continue to do so?

The police… the night I was assaulted, were exceptionally unhelpful. I guess they’ve got so much going on, so many ‘worse’ things to deal with… and they’re under-staffed.

Yet we rely on our police force to manage law and order. But violence like this is not considered enough of a problem to send a police car out to comfort someone who’s been severely traumatised and go arrest the bastard who did it.

The night I was assaulted, many people would have heard my screams for help but no help came. And, very few people in my life have had enough courage, emotional fortitude and good old fashioned compassion to deal with the emotional aftermath that night has wrought in my life.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m being dramatic or over-stating what happened. I hope I haven’t. I’ve had to be very careful about who I tell these things to – and for whatever reason it’s been so much easier to do in the anonymous environs of a blog. I’ve gained more support from people who don’t know me than from most of the people that do.

Why if we know something is going on do we choose to ignore it?

I think as CC said, many people don’t want to look, lest they see something that reminds them of their own fears and/or mortality.

I don’t judge them for that; I simply understand that not everyone is equipped that way.

I continue to talk to those who can listen and understand. And I continue my healing process, damn determined this will not cast a shadow over my life any longer than absolutely necessary.

******

And then my follow up reply…

Hugs are more than welcome. Its one of the things I’ve missed like crazy – too afraid to get close to men in my life, but at the same time desperately wanting (safe) male hugs. I just haven’t been able to do it – well, I have recently just begun that process (reaching out to male friends I think I can trust), but its tough.

PTSD… what a fucking sick joke that is! I think it was easier to deal with when I was experiencing it more frequently. Because I’ve been free of such episodes for months… its hit much harder. Might have been easier to get hit with a concrete baseball bat than this!

No, Andre was never charged. I did get a very long protection order in place though, and I took action in other ways – letting his ex (with whom he has kids) know what happened, and the place I met him (where he used to work as a musician), I told them too. They were pretty unhappy about it, because they want their patrons to be safe. So I think I did him out of a job at that venue anyway…

Of course what happened is not my fault. Logically I know that. But it’s not so easy to believe. And I get it – you know, how weak he is, how much pain and fear he must be living with to act in that way. I know from talking to his ex that I was not the first person he’s assaulted.

And I learned in therapy that often, men with violent tendencies are exceptionally good at hiding that side of their personalities.

So I know all of that, but still, some of my anger is reserved for me. And I haven’t forgiven myself yet, not properly… no matter what I know logically and reasonably. It’s just not that simple. Wish it was!!

But I keep up the good fight. The ongoing attempts at self-acceptance. And finally it seems, I’ve been able to let out all of the murderous rage I’ve been feeling that I never felt at the time… because I was too fearful and sad and concerned with making sure I got out of that situation in one piece.

So it seems that recently I’d processed enough that my sub-conscious said okay, she’s doing well enough – let’s send out the next wave of stuff to be dealt with.

And that’s what I’m in the middle of right now. It is getting better and continues to do so.

~Svasti

P.S. I should add, that today as I write this… things are getting better. They are. Day by day. Hugs and kisses to everyone who’s been so wonderful to me in this time. xoxo

Stereotypes & strategies

Tags

Coping, Domestic violence, Stereotypes, Violence against women, Vulnerable

One of the reasons its taken me so long to confront what happened to me is because I was very busy telling myself that it wasn’t so bad… compared to what others have gone through.

There’s a part of me that still feels this is quite a rational point of view. After all, its backed up by some well publicised facts about violence against women.

The stats below are a direct quote from a 2005 ABS survey:

• 363 000 women (4.7 per cent of all women) experienced physical violence
• 2.56 million (33 per cent of all women) have experienced physical violence since the age of 15
• 1.47 million (19 per cent) have experienced sexual violence since the age of 15
• 78 per cent of female victims of sexual assault knew the offender

These stats tell us that violence is prevalent in Australia. But they don’t paint a picture of the demographics, of the lives of the women who’ve been affected. They don’t tell the stories of what happened, to whom and why – which must be as unique as the individuals in question.

Before I was assaulted, its fair to say I thought I would never be ‘one of those women’. If pressed for more details, I’d probably say that ‘those women’ were most likely lower income people, weak and dependent people. I had some idea in my head that most women who experienced assault were in violent relationships. That they were most likely putting up with it, staying on with their guy for some misguided reason. I felt great sympathy for them, and I could see they were emotionally reliant on the men that hurt them – that was my very limited view.

When I was 20, and just before I left for Sydney, my flatmate Colleen, had a violent boyfriend. He was younger than her, possibly a little crazy and he would hit her. They were on/off and Colleen’s friends were doing their best to help her see the light and dump him. But I’ll never forget my surprise and horror when she came home late one night and told me they were getting married. The first thing out of my mouth was not ‘congratulations’. Instead, I asked her about the violence… and she spouted words that could’ve been lifted directly from some cop drama. “He told me he loves me. He said it will be different this time and that he won’t hit me any more”. Riiight.

Luckily the relationship self-destructed before they even got close to getting a marriage licence! But most unfairly, my opinion of Colleen changed from that time on. I began to think of her as a little pathetic. I lost respect for my friend – just a smidgen.

And I truly never imagined that it would happen to me. I never saw it coming, never expected it, not even in the seconds before his fist first connected with my face.

Of course, I wasn’t in a relationship with this man – let’s call him Andre – he was someone that I had been seeing for a few months but I’d called it off. I’d already realised it wasn’t what I wanted, but I was still happy to be friends. Before that one twisted night, there wasn’t the slightest hint of the crazed, angry, aggressive and frightening person he revealed himself to be. Before he actually hit me, when he was just yelling and being abusive, even then I wouldn’t have picked what was to come.

And then it happened. Since that time, I’ve been in denial about joining the ranks of women who have had violence done unto them. Here are some of the little stories (and the sub-text) I’ve been telling myself and my friends:

“It was just one night, after all” – (of course! No big deal really)

“There’s no chance in hell I’d be one of those women who’d stay in a violent relationship” – (so that makes me different, a bit better, not as pathetic, right?)

“Some women are injured very badly, and ongoing – but I was lucky” – (yeah I just got away with a black eye, a possibly fractured cheek bone and some broken glass)

“I don’t have that much to complain about really” – (of course not, post traumatic stress is a breeze!)

“I feel a bit embarrassed talking to a counsellor, because what I went through was pretty mild” – (Surely I’ll be okay in a few months)

Nice stories huh? They are all great strategies for compartmentalising the raging grief and pain I was going through. Mostly because they are partially true and logical, and it was easy to get agreement from other people when I said these things. Even if they didn’t pick up on my sub-text, in my mind they’d agreed to that as well.

Clearly, I’d already drawn a line in the sand between me and the ‘other women’ who go through assault. I was still trying desperately not to see myself as one of them, those people I thought of as weak. Obviously all those years ago, I bought into the stereotypes and because I’d always seen myself as strong and independant, I couldn’t let myself identify with my fellow “assaultees”.

Like my other little strategies, it’s true, there is always someone with a worse story – but that can’t detract or minimise your own experience. It doesn’t help. It doesn’t change or fix anything.

Thinking about my old flatmate from all of those years back, I can say this much – assault as viewed from the outside tells you nothing. Ofcourse, you might be upset for a friend who’s gone through this kind of experience. You might even think the way I did, and see your friend as weak. Please try not to though!

Here’s what you need to know: This sort of violence is penetrative. It is soul rape. It has the potential to rearrange your inner world, to tear it apart, turn it upside down. I say ‘potential’, because not everyone reacts to assault in the same way, ofcourse. But its a very strong person indeed, who walks away from being assaulted with few ill effects.

At present, I’m in a really vulnerable state, because I’m in the process of deconstructing these strategies, clearing away the lines in the sand and acknowledging to myself for the first time how very damaged I am as a result of being assaulted, even if it was only just one night. Even if other people have had much worse experiences.

This is a good thing. It doesn’t make me weak. Allowing myself to be vulnerable, to face the devestation is incredibly difficult. And actually, its this act of taking care of myself that makes me strong.

I’m throwing away the props and distractions.

I’m blowing down the house of cards I’ve been sheltering in.

~Svasti

Next: Depression triggers – part 1