advertisement

Signs and Symptoms of Abuse

It takes two to tango. I despise that phrase because it implies equal responsibility for the abuse inherent in an abusive relationship. It is true that for every abuser, there is a victim of abuse. If the victim refused to stay, there would be no abuse at all. While that is true, it puts equal responsibility for the abuse onto the victim, and that isn't right (Things Victims Say and Do To Cause Abuse).
The only wrinkle on my forehead is a vertical line a little higher than the bridge of my nose, right of center. When I was younger, it would show when I was displeased, angry, or pouting. Now the wrinkle shows always. I consider it a battle scar. One night right before we separated, Will drank some Jim Beam and then came to my perch at the computer to stare at me. I tried to ignore him - I knew where the staring would lead. After a few uncomfortable minutes, he reached his finger toward my face and traced the wrinkle on my forehead. "Why don't you yell at me anymore? Why don't you get mad anymore? Why don't you love me no more?" he sadly asked.
One day in 2001, I recorded in my journal: "I don't know why I am so angry." Hindsight is 20/20 (or maybe the "hindsight bias" is at play). Either way, by piecing together the evidence from my journals, I was angry because my abuser: dishonored the goals I set for myself, following only his own ignored my thoughts or feelings when planning "our" life together demanded I raise our children by his rules, as if he were their only parent and on and on... In short, I was angry because he denied that "I" existed. "I" meant so little to him that he wanted to pretend he was the only person in our "relationship".
The predictability of domestic abuse is, overall, easy to see; but case-by-case, domestic abuse eruptions are unpredictable. The predictability of domestic abuse exists because you know that the abuse will happen again, following a pattern; the unpredictability is in when it will occur.
Now that I'm out of my abusive marriage, I never want to enter another abusive relationship again. I think about how I came to believe my ex-husband was my knight in shining armor and how I fell under his spell. Although he alone is responsible for the abuse, the abusive cycle was partly my fault; in effect, I gave him permission to abuse me. I don't want to give anyone permission to do that again! Here are four signs I ignored that warned me of future abuse in the relationship with my ex-husband.
If I've learned one thing over the past two years, it is that our society is ill-equipped to deal with emotional and verbal abuse, and more than 75% of the time, we do not recognize it when it happens to us. And if we do know it is happening, we're reluctant to label it as abuse. Instead, we seek to "understand" and "forgive" or "toughen up and deal with it" believing our minds and hearts should be able to "overcome" somebody's hurtful words and manipulations. We think we should be "better men" and "rise above" the verbal violence via passivity and silence (and maybe an apologetic smile if the abuser lashes out around friends, family, or the strangers in the canned goods aisle at the grocery store).
Over the past weeks, I allowed my ex access to my spirit because I thought I was strong enough to handle it. Via text messages, he insulted my abilities and predicted my doom, and I forced myself to read his words because the overall issue related to our child. I now realize I chose three paths of thought that do not serve me.
I know that my ex spews hogwash (and even tell him so), yet I continue to allow Will access to me because he may actually have something worthwhile to contribute in raising our sons. Or, at least, that's what the courts and "common sense" tell me. I know that the courts are sometimes dead wrong and that I cannot use a "common sense" test for a man who is so far from "normal" that common sense doesn't apply to him.
I have a young friend who is 17 and must return to her home today under Department of Social Services' direction. Amy stayed with me the past few weeks as a runaway; she left her home two months ago. I visited the social worker at her school early on and tried to find a way to keep Amy safe. We looked into a group home, but Amy needs her parent's permission to go there. There is no placement for Amy, a 17 year old runaway. There is no help for her. The school honored Amy's request to keep DSS out of it for awhile. "Awhile" ended on Thursday.
Recently, I felt pretty darn sorry for myself. It seems that despite my best efforts, I cannot cut ties with Will, my abuser. Just last night, he came to my home to bring me our final divorce papers. He stood in my living room telling a humorous story of how our youngest son attempted to climb a pine tree with parachute gear. He gave my the papers, and I handed him my military ID card. Marc, our oldest son who now lives with me because his father choked him in a rage, sat quietly on the couch. I saw my son shrinking into the fibers of the sofa and made a mental note that Will is no longer allowed entry to my home. I will speak to Will on the steps or out by his truck; the man's mere presence disturbs the peace.