I came across this poem about domestic violence in the faith realm, and I wanted to share it with people today. I think alot of people can very much relate to what the author is saying.
I read part of her story about domestic abuse last night, and I have to tell you I had to stop in a couple of places. It was very triggering for me. She speaks alot more of emotional abuse, verbal abuse than physical abuse. She stated:
Emotional abuse is the worst kind in my mind, because it's the hardest to see and prove. I remember seeing the movie, "The Burning Bed", with Farrah Fawcett. It was a true story of a woman who had been savagely abused by her husband until one day in desperation she set fire to the house as he lay passed out in a drunken stupor. After hearing her testimony, she was found not guilty, by reason of temporary insanity. I really related to that movie. Not that I ever thought of taking it that far, but I often thought it would come to that, one of us having to die before it would stop. Many times I wished he would just get it over with and kill me, just so the pain would finally end.
I feel Emotional Abuse is the most harmful type of abuse, other than life threatening physical abuse. It is the most likely to go undetected and unreported because the scars are hidden. It is much more socially acceptable to call names and manipulate than to hit someone, it's easier to get away with. I suffered primarily emotional abuse during our courtship, which is probably why I didn't leave him. It was hard to prove he was doing it, so it was hard to get any support. Pretty soon it became easier to just explain it away and enable it to continue. My abuser had complete control of my emotions and it affected my relationships with others and my decision making.
Here is her poem for today.
There's nothing but shattered pieces
my china cup has paid the price
I spent too much at the store today
and his reaction wasn't nice
The kids complained and fussed
I could feel impending doom
He was tired and didn't care
now they're crying in their room
I cower and listen in numb despair
while his curses fill my ears
He's got my throat, I cannot breathe
my eyes well up with tears
"If only you didn't make me mad!"
I know that's what he'll say
I'd run and hide and take the kids
but I'd never get away
He's sitting there, his fire has died
pretending nothing fared
I stand and face him, cup in hand
I've never been so scared
"You see this cup?" I asked him
"So fragile and complete?"
I threw it down in one swift blow
and glass flew at his feet
He stared at me in disbelief
as I finally took a stand
"This cup is me, each broken piece,
I wish you'd understand!"
"Some of the pieces can be fixed
with patience and some glue,
but some of these are just too small
this cup will never be new."
"Each time you say a hateful word
each time you grab my arm,
My mind and heart are shattered
and you'll never undo the harm."
He told me I was crazy,
and I'd better clean up the mess
I guess the lesson here was lost
and so am I, I guess
I found the strength to leave one day
but it took too long to get free
A shattered cup is my reminder
of the life he took from me
The pain is still too real to me
even though he's not around
He still finds ways to hurt me
and throw me to the ground
My life is shattered pieces
but at least I can know this:
Someday God will fix my cup
but who will take care of his?
Angie Horvath 2000
What It Means To Be A Victim
A Chosen Vessel
Will You Love me To Death
Saturday Night Special
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