can you see the "what if" monster under my bed?

today all the local news stations are awash with a horrifying story of a local business woman and her son who were killed in an act of domestic violence. please know that i have no information on this besides what’s in the news- but from what i’ve read in the reports this woman had been on her own for the last 6 months (at least) trying to get away from the situation. she was smart. she had support. she had the right tools. and it still didn’t end well.

a year or more ago there was a similar story about a woman whose body was found in a warehouse days after disappearing when she told friends she was going to talk to her abuser “just one last time…”

just one last time…

i hate domestic violence. i loathe the cowards (men and women) who abuse the person they are supposed to love and support. i abhor the behavior and the way society acts and thinks there’s some reason or excuse or something that the VICTIM should have done different.

i am a domestic violence survivor. i’ve talked about it before. it was bad. he never hit me. he never threw things or broke things. you’d be surprised how many people think that it wasn’t “real” domestic violence.

i’ve told pieces of my story. there’s some (oddly) funny thing that make me laugh now. there’s some things that still terrify me. there’s more than a few things that still make me ask questions. and there’s days like today, reading different news reports, seeing other stories played out in the headlines when i wonder…why me? i’ve never been a big believer in the question “why me” i’m more of the school of “why NOT me? why would i be exempt?” but for this i wonder “why me?” why did _I_ make it out safe? why do i keep defying the statistics? why am i the one that refuses to conform?

and then there’s the even more terrifying questions: what if i’m not safe? what if i’m not exempt? what’s to keep my ex from snapping about owing back child support and coming after me? what makes me so sure that i’m out and away from it and protected? i mean…realistically my divorce has been finalized for…damn…just at 6 years now (some day in july, 2004…not sure the exact date). so i’m a ways out. but so much has changed in that time. he’s currently 5k+ behind in support…people have done freaky things about way less money. he knows people are looking for him, yet no one can find him. what’s to keep something from happening and no one STILL being able to find him?

is domestic violence ever over?

i still find myself doing things only because i still think that’s what i’m “supposed” to do. i put my purse in the grocery cart instead of keeping it on my shoulder because it “looks like a white trash whore” when i keep it on my shoulder. i’m still leery about leaving the house without make up. i still tense up when i hear trucks pull up outside my house at night even though i haven’t had to worry about what kind of mood he would be in when he got home from work in over 6 years. there are still memories attached to everything- i can’t help but think about the fight over green beans when i make tater tot casserole. i always hesitate when i invite people to events because i remember being accused of attempting to kidnap him when i invited him to thanksgiving at a friends house. i remember…god…i remember too much for being away from it 3 times longer than i was in it.

it’s obviously still not over for me. what if it’s not over for him? what if he comes back? the woman in the news today was a damn strong woman. she fought for women’s rights and children’s rights. and it still happened to her. i like to think of myself as a strong woman. a fighter…

years ago when i moved out i had been talking to a domestic violence counselor to try to get things in order and figure out all the how’s and when’s. to this day, there is one thing she said that STILL plays over and over in my mind: once he knows you’re leaving, NEVER, EVER, under any circumstances go anywhere alone with him. at that point he has nothing left to lose.

sure enough, the minute he found out i was leaving he wanted to go somewhere and talk. just inside, away from the people (a friend came to help me move). just for a minute, one last talk…

over and over in the back of my head i kept hearing the voice: never, ever go anywhere with him alone. maybe i was going to be one of the statistics. maybe there was a different ending that day. but i listened to that voice. how many women have never heard that voice? how many women did have a friend there? how many women thought “just one last time…it’ll be ok…”.

maybe you can hear the voice. maybe you can have the support. maybe sometimes there’s just nothing left that you can do. maybe some people are just hell bent on destruction no matter what safe guards are in place.

i’ve spent today sad and scared and angry and confused. sad for the loss of a beautiful woman i never knew, scared that it could be me, angry that these things keep happening, confused how people can still blame the victims. there was no reason at all for all this loss. there is no excuse. there is no explanation. there is tragedy. there is sadness. there is monumental loss. there is a gaping hole left even between people who never met.

i’m sad that so many people are hurting because of one act of cowardice. i’m angry that this many years later i’m still scared. i’m confused why people want to blame rather than support or fix.

most of all i’m scared.