#battered

My handsome, battered and bruised husband.

I’ve been left battered in many forms over the years. It’s easy to get worn down, to be complacent. In psychology, we call it learned helplessness, even when the environment changes, everyone may see you’re in a better spot –but you still won’t utilize resources to save yourself because you’re used to being trapped and helpless. It’s a trauma response.  It’s hard to recognize abuse when your partner finds ways to act the victim. It’s hard to seek help when you know no one will believe you. When there are still good moments to compare to the pain, when you’re scared to be alone, so you become numb and can’t feel anything.  I was finally wounded bad enough to seek help this time, get justice. My friend encouraged me to press charges, not just for this, but for all the times I never did before. To finally heal, to break the cycle. To keep future women safe from these men.   And let me tell you, the process didn’t feel like justice. I was insulted, ridiculed, called an attention-whore, drama queen, scrutinized for my appearance, my “frivilous” behavior – I understand why victims don’t seek legal action. It’s hell. And after everything, they got a slap on the wrist for what they did. All I can hope is that creating a criminal record protects another woman, in case this ever happens again.