Confessions of an Abused

It was 24 April 2003 and 28 Dec 2010 when I left my home forever twice. I do not know what I was thinking but I knew in my heart of hearts that it is the right thing to do for me.

And till today – 09 October 2021 – I wrote several diary entries about my life. I wrote when I was happy. I wrote when I was feeling low. I wrote when life sprung memories of my life with my family members. I wrote after I cried, after an emotionally draining day.

I wrote about my love for you. My parents. My kids. My birthing experience. My divorce. My confessions of love. My pain. My joys. My loss. And every time I wrote, it was about me and my perception of the emotions.

I just realized that I never ever wrote about the various forms of abuse I went through. It was physical and emotional – both.

I think it scarred me so much that I never wrote about it. I spoke to my friends at times. I remember speaking about it to random acquaintances too. I told my then boyfriend-now husband too. But I know I haven’t told them in detail. Every time I touch the iceberg of the topic I cry, in fact, I howl; I explode; I shout; I cry buckets of tears and pass out exhausted, that I never had the opportunity to really get into it in detail or rationalize it or even accept the fact that it happened to me.

Maybe I was in denial. Maybe we are always taught that whatever happens in a marriage or at home shouldn’t be discussed as it is personal. Or the girl is always at fault. Or because maybe we believe that we deserve it. The reason need not be this complicated too, it can be a simple one – when it happens, we don’t even realize that is abuse. We aren’t educated enough about this whole thing that when it happens, we just cry or sleep over it, wake up and start our next day.

I knew that I was being physically abused after while but to realize that I was being emotionally abused – manipulated, controlled, intimidated – it took me approximately 30 years.

Does it make sense? Does it feel right? Does it feel good to have finally realized?

I don’t know. I don’t think so. It only makes me afraid that once I delve into each experience or incident of this abuse, I am going to open Pandora's box. I don’t know what else I am going to discover. It is going to give me sleepless nights or overslept days. It is going to affect my everyday life. It is going to haunt me. It is going to scar me more.

But you know what? It is what it is. YES, I AM A VICTIM OF DOMESTIC ABUSE.