Why Would Anyone DO This?

A friend who reads this blog asked me a question a few weeks ago, "Why would anyone want to read this? It is pain. It is a total downer, and no one needs this!"

Which is why I haven't posted for a while. I had to think about what they said. Was I really wasting my time? Was I engaging in emotional exhibitionism?

And then I had to take a domestic violence class this weekend. It really was a horrible class - on multiple levels.

(1) This was a professional development class. I knew the topic going in the door. I knew that there was the possibility of trauma triggers, but it was "professional" - um. no. Somehow the prof didn't get that memo. Random readings from a DV textbook + Lifetime movies = NOT professional.... ended up with my sweater over my head, fingers in my ears, humming "The Sound of Music" to keep out the sound of screaming from the screen.

(2) The class was filled with "professionals" and pre-professionals in the social work and criminal justice fields, and their heads were being filled with ideas like, "women are the victims" and "you can tell who a victim is just by looking at them" and that "once a DV victim - always a DV victim." My horror was waging with my desire for privacy. Whilst I am willing to be open and honest here. I'm not so much willing to spread my business in public - where I have to look at these people again.

So - yes. I do need to share this. The good, the bad, the ugly - and the painful.

Mostly because people (not just women) who are experiencing domestic violence or abuse or molestation often feel alone. In the depths of my depression and isolation, I **knew** that I was the only person in the world experiencing that kind of pain. I couldn't share with other people, because no one believed me. The reflection I was seeing of myself was that I was so broken and worthless, that I deserved the pain.

When someone goes looking for some connection to the rest of humanity - for some sign that what they are experiencing is real - and that there is hope, I hope they find this. Yes. It is painful. So is being abused. Yes, it is unpleasant. So are the lies we tell ourselves to make it through each day.

More importantly - the resources available on the internet and on the inside of bathroom doors all focus on the "getting away" decision. And there just aren't support stories for after. The times where doubt and fear and loneliness and shame have you standing at the door ready to beg to come back. They don't address the times in the middle of the night when you wake crying, desperate to reach out for someone in the night.

Lots of "happy ever after" stories, but nothing for those walking the path. Nothing for those of us learning how to walk. This is for those folks. A fragile thread that connects the human experience for people who are barely hanging on themselves.

Dear People Learning to be Professionals,
          Domestic violence is experienced by folks of all sexes and all genders and all ages from all walks of life. You cannot tell who suffers just by looking at them. Domestic violence is more than hitting. Wounds from words, from silence, from distance, from financial manipulation are still wounds. Our legal system has only recognized domestic violence (battering) as a crime in the last 40 years. This is not enough time for the social values represented by those laws to fully become social norms in society. This means that folks who experience domestic violence need support before, during, and after leaving the situation. This also means that people experiencing domestic violence may not even understand that is what is happening to them, and that they may blame themselves for the violence in their lives.
          Please, these folks - **I** - don't need your patronizing rescue fantasies.  We need support. We need to hear that we can learn different ways of talking to ourselves. We need to hear that we need to take care of ourselves first, and that we aren't being selfish by taking care of ourselves. We are strong people. By standing in front of you - by surviving - we are the strongest people you will ever meet. We need to learn to treat ourselves with respect and dignity and compassion. Don't write us off because we get scared and go back. We are humans, and we are terrified. Don't judge us until you have walked in our shoes, until you have felt our pain, and cried our tears. You do not have that right.

Learn compassion before judgement.

Thank you.
A.

Hi, my name is A----..

and I identify as a feminist. That probably isn't the most important thing about me - but it is what shapes this blog, so it is important to get out there right off.

Because I am a feminist who also teaches sociology, I believe that my lived experience shapes my version of reality, and in turn shapes how I interact with the rest of the world. Since you (my readers) are the part of the world, I think it is fair to let you know how my position in time and space impacts my writing.

Wow - that sounds like mental masturbation - even to me.

Try this again...

Hi. My name is A----. I am a female human who lives in the United States. I grew up in a politically conservative household - although I've gotten better. I have survived sexual molestation and domestic violence. I am a non-traditional student. I am a mom. I live with major depressive disorder. I weigh 260.8 pounds. I teach college students. I also knit socks... for fun... seriously.

I do not know how to treat myself with compassion. I have learned - really well - how to be "nice" to other people, but not myself.

My goal for the next year is to learn how to be honest with myself, and to live a more authentic life. I can feel the academic in me wanting to contextualize "to live a more authentic life". I've been reading a number of books over the last year, and I have a pretty good idea of what that is SUPPOSED to mean - but I don't know what it means to me. Is it the reality I've been shaping for myself for the last 30-some-odd years? That seems/seemed pretty darn real, especially since I had no clue that life can/could be lived any other way. Or is it the reality I wish my life could be? That seems pretty darn "magical thinking" - and more likely to set me up for failure. I honestly don't know the answer.

A few things have come together lately that have indicated that this blog is necessary. Obese people experience stigma, cruelty, and generalized lack of compassion on a daily basis. Sometimes lives have to fall apart, so they can be rebuilt on a solid foundation of honesty. And no matter how much I beat myself up - or let others beat me up - I can only do what I can do right now. And, most importantly, I realized that I cannot be a decent parent without learning to treat myself with compassion.

I am the person who is supposed to teach my son how to be a grownup. And I honestly don't like the grownup I have become. I've read The Happiness Project and Dr. Neff's book on Self-Compassion. I've taken Jeff Brown's NVC workshop and read Marshall Rosenberg's books. Mostly, I feel rather the same about my life as I do my thesis - I've been doing a lot of research, and very little writing. So - I am going to do my best to write myself out of this hole. I think that I need to learn how to live, and I think that other people need to know they aren't alone out there. I'm not promising you a happy ending. I do promise to be as honest as I know how to be.