Prego Project: Voicing Violence Award

pregoprojectpresentedbypregoandtheloon

I’m honored.

Jet @ Sustainably Single Parenting was sweet enough to grace me with such a prestigious award. Why prestigious? Because it stands for something so very important and that is voicing Domestic Violence so we can make more people aware and hopefully become a society that doesn’t have to put up with living like that. Do we want our children to grow up and experience what we have as the generation before them? I wouldn’t. So thank you, so very much, Jet. I couldn’t be more honored to receive this since I have known domestic violence all my life. More on that soon.

PREGO PROJECT RULES

  1. Kindly thank the person who nominated you, and provide a link back to their blog.
  2. Attach the Prego Project Award presented by Prego and the Loon to your site.
  3. Provide a bit of hope and inspiration for those currently dealing with domestic violence.
  4. Nominate some other bloggers whom you feel deserve this award!

My Story(ies)

When I was very young, I can remember our apartment in Virginia, but I have no memories of my father ever being there. I don’t know why. He was absent relatively often due to his career and his alcoholism. He was military — Navy branch so he would be deployed on sea duty for 6-9 months at a time. This could be the reason.

When we were able to afford living in a house they had what I referred to as our “big” home built. I was 6 when we moved in. I do not remember how old I was when the first incident happened. The first incident I had witnessed. My father was obliterated and had been watching some football game down stairs. I went to sleep in my mom’s room so I was upstairs with her watching TV. My father comes into the room and wants to show her some stupid mascot and my mom keeps saying no, that we are in the middle of a show. He changes the channel and my mom gets up to change it back and when she gets close enough to my father, he about coldcocks her. Fist to face. Her glasses break. And just as casually as he came in, he walks out.

Another night, I am right next door playing with my friend Jason whose grandparents live next to us and I receive a call from my mom. Her voice is shaken, I can tell she’s been crying and she is telling me it’s time to come home now. I knew what happened because it was always worst when they went out drinking together so I told her I wanted to spend the night. I knew I wasn’t allowed to spend the night with a boy so I lied and said his sister Becky was with us. My mom reluctantly said OK.

After the first time, I couldn’t keep it together the next day at school so in gym class I had a breakdown and the gym teachers pulled me into their office to find out what was disturbing me. I told them. I kept repeating not to tell my mom; since I was a small child I always knew how easily embarrassed she was. In all honesty, she was an enabler (co-dependent) and didn’t want to lose everything so she did what she could to keep it together. I was scheduled to see the school counselor every day. I learned about alcoholism, domestic violence, everything.

My mom left my father when I was almost 11 and my sister was almost 16. We drove out of the neighborhood I loved August 16, 1996. I’ll never forget.

Two and half years later, my father went completely sober and was in AA. My mom decided to take him back and I flipped. I didn’t know that man. What I knew of that man was scary. I didn’t want to live with him again. I actually had written in my diary shortly after we were settled, “I miss Virginia terribly. I think I always will. I don’t miss my father and I’ve never felt so free before. I am happy they are divorcing.”

I found a little black book hidden underneath my mother’s mattress. I was a sneak since the day I was born. I opened it and read each date and time and the actual events that occurred. The only times I actually witnessed the violence, it was fist to face. When I wasn’t home, it was much worse.

She needed me home that night and I had refused.

_______________________________

My former friend Nicole was in an abusive relationship in our late teens. He was controlling, volatile and sometimes physical. He wouldn’t hit her, but he’d shove her and leave hand marks and bruises on her arms and legs. One time he was so disturbed he told her he was going to kill himself and told her not to worry “sweet angel” because he’d be taking her with him. They had been arguing and her had her pinned to the floor when he said it in this eerily calm voice. The first time I ever rolled was at their apartment and when she was in the bathroom he told me if I wasn’t her friend he’d bang me. Talk about ew. Then later when we were on the balcony and he eluded that he had her under such control if he could make her crumble if he wanted to — basically destroy her. I told Niki that if she was to keep seeing him, I was done. She’d call to talk and once she’d start about him I’d tell her I didn’t want to hear it. No one did, so eventually she was able to break it off and be done with him.

______________________________

Alice, I think, is full of shit. She told me how she once got attacked and almost choked out by her father. She also told me that a former boyfriend once took a pool stick to her when she refused to have sex with him. I would think things like that would deter her from this choice to be with Dipshidiot, but either those were falsehoods or she’s more wrecked than I thought.

I didn’t want to have anything to do with my father after what he did to my mom. If he attacked me?? Hope you don’t mind having children who will never have anything to do with you again. Ever. No, though. She talks to him and I have heard her conversations with him, it’s a very close relationship. I know every one’s relations with their family is different, but I find it hard to respect my father so I’m not always the kindest to him. I come by it naturally.

____________________________

Jorge was controlling, he wanted me isolated. We’d have blown out arguments. He got physical a couple of times. We were a recipe for disaster. He’s the only abusive-like relationship I’ve been in, but if anyone tries to tell me it was abusive, I will defend our relationship. He’s the only man I ever loved, so far. I know getting out of relationships like that are not easy. But if you walk into one willingly, like Alice, I will think you a dumbfuck. No doubt.

_____________________________

A man who has a domestic violence rap sheet is a man to be wary of. It is not often that women do actually call for help, so really it must have been bad that the woman not only called 911, but took the man to court and proceeded in pressing charges. He can tell you she’s a crazy bitch, the system is messed up because she only had a surface scratch on her that he doesn’t believe he even made. But it’s lies. Especially if it’s from 2 different women and the man is an alcoholic.

Public records are easy to check. Google is your best friend. Something fishy? Throw him back.

_____________________________

I don’t want to seem sexist, so I will also say that men out there also need to be wary of women abusers. They are out there. It can be embarrassing to go to authorities because she’s a woman, but don’t let it continue. We need to stop the violence from both parties, so swallow your pride and let someone know.

This also goes to violence between lesbian and gay couples. Women to children. Men to children. Children to parents. Stop the cycle.

NOMINEES

I need your help. In the comments section, if you’d like, please bring forth to me those who speak about or have personal experience with domestic violence so I can pass this award to them. I’m not trying to make you do the work for me, I just don’t know anyone in my reader that talks about it all that much. & I don’t want to assume someone has when they have not. So if you could be so kind so I can pass on this award and spread even more awareness, I’d really appreciate it. I’d like to do all I can to stopping the violence.

I also want to give an open invitation to any and all who’ve lived with Domestic Violence, grew up seeing it, or are currently in a situation to email me if you want. It will be completely confidential and I am just opening up if you need someone to talk to. I know what it feels like to be living with a dirty secret. My email is combat5babe[at]gmail[dot]com.

  1. anewfreelife

She Literally Saved Our Lives

Virginia Beach- Fishing Pier

Virginia Beach- Fishing Pier (Photo credit: Amai)

I was young. I know I was young because I was at the Virginia Beach Pier with my friend and her family. Briefly, I was born in Virginia Beach and moved down to sunny Florida when I was almost 11. So at this time of the beach I could have been anywhere from 7-10 years old. I don’t remember.

My friend and I were on our tip-toes to keep our head above the water, I must have been younger than 10 when I think about it because we both had those arm floating devices. Floaties, I guess? I don’t know what they’re called. We were tiny little things anyway. Well her mom and dad were out away talking with another couple in the water.

Suddenly my friend slips under the water and I start screaming as I look for her. Her head pops up and she’s a little further from me than she was so I start going toward her and all of a sudden I’m pulled under water, too. Next thing I know is I feel an arm grab my torso and I am being lifted and pulled toward the shore. Heather’s mom had grabbed us both, one in each arm and got us to the sand out of the water. Heather and I were both spitting out water and when able to breathe, coughing like crazy.

English: A view of the beach at Virginia Beach...

English: A view of the beach at Virginia Beach, VA from the fishing pier. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

That was one of the scariest moments of my life and the reason behind my fear of drowning. Had her mom not noticed us going under, we could have died. We had gotten caught in what is called an undertow or riptide depending on if you live on the east or west coast. The only things we knew about them were if someone gets caught, don’t go after them because you’ll get caught too and will be of no help and I think it used to be you were told to swim parallel to the shore to get out of them. We were kids so we unfortunately didn’t know what it was. When I first stepped into it to reach Heather all I remember was it was really cold and it felt like a hole where the sand used to be and I was getting sucked down into it. I guess unless you’re a veteran to the beach and/or a surfer you know what it is and to relax through it until it relinquishes and you can swim to shore. When I was sucked into the current, I didn’t know up from down. All I knew was that I was drowning and so was Heather and if it weren’t for her mom to come charging toward us like a mother bear, I don’t think we would have made it. When we got to the shore we were completely exhausted and limp. We had been doing the opposite of relaxing, we were fighting.

I’ve lived within 5 to 20 minutes from a beach the majority of my life. I can recall only a couple of times in FL where I have gone up to my shoulders in the water and it was usually because a group of my friends were going in. I hate the beach. The only time I don’t hate the beach is at night because when I’m angry I drive to it and it calms me. No one is there, it’s quiet and on the rare cool nights we have during the year, it’s the best. If I can avoid going to the beach during the day, I will. I hate sunning or tanning or whatever it is called. I have fair skin and the sun on my skin feels scorching even if I’m not getting sun burned yet. When I was a kid, before that incident, I loved the beach. And I think I can relate a lot of fears I have currently to that day; drowning, not being able to see what’s around me in the water (in a bubble bath I have to be able to see the drain), and holes (I may make a post of my irrational fear of holes in the future). I hate the beach, but I would never want to live away from it.

Heather’s mom was amazing that day. She was always a wonderful woman always, but that day she was my real life hero and I will never forget that.

_______

Post was inspired by the Daily Prompt at the Daily Post.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 427 other followers

%d bloggers like this: