I Confess

I am stating out loud. I was in a domestic violence situation. I am reeling. I don't know how that happened. I am smart and educated. I come from a good family with strong values. I go to church. And yet, I am a survivor.

I've been reading articles on DV. I can see it now looking back, still with some disbelief. The put downs. The amateur dramatics. That he never listened to me and it was always about him. That it was always someone else's fault; that it was mostly my fault. That he was damaged from his past, so that's the excuse. He blamed me for things that had nothing to do with me. He spent my money. I walked on eggshells...all the time. He told me I was a bad person. He supported me until I succeeded and then put me down instead of celebrating. He was possessive. He tried to cut me off from my support system. He used my child as a pawn. He dismissed my difficulties as unimportant. He perceived himself as a martyr. And then he punched a hole in the wall. And it was my fault. And then he slammed the door to keep me from leaving...almost on my hand. And he screamed at me in front of our little baby. And wouldn't stop. And that was my fault too. Because I had ruined his day. And then he trapped me in the house. And ripped a necklace off my neck with our baby in his arms (crying). And screamed at us in broad daylight in front of many. And wouldn't let us get away. But we did. And I finally called the cops. And I thought after a week of cooling off it would be okay. And then he exploded again. And again. And this time cut me off from sources of income and tried to cut me off from friends. But they didn't believe him. Because they had seen this all along. It was me. I was the only one who was surprised.

And now I am a survivor. I am healing. I am realizing and accepting. And I am scared. Because it could happen again. If I didn't see it the first time until it was too late, what about the next time. So I pray. And have Faith. And try to go back to believing most people are inherently good.