On Death’s Doorstep.
“According to the U.S. Department of Justice, approximately
2,000 women are murdered every year by an intimate partner.” As I was reading an article this sentence hit
me like a ton of bricks. I never wanted
to believe that I was close to death. I
never wanted to believe that I was “that” girl.
You know the one that you picture in your mind when you hear the words
battered woman. In my mind the picture I
had always painted was a frail girl, dirty blonde hair, in a white tanktop that
was several sizes too big that now had several bloodstains, crouched down in a
corner trying to hide her face that was covered in bruises. No way, I couldn’t be “that” girl. Afterall, it wasn’t that I endured beatings
every day or even that there were ever marks left on my body. So I made excuse after excuse to cover up for
the way that I was being treated.
Abuse is such a
strong word. A word that the world as a
whole has a hard time defining and the church has an even harder time. As if abuse finally being defined gives another reason that people feel like
they can divorce and the divorce rate within the church is high enough without
another “excuse”. I always wanted
someone to draw clear lines for me. If
he ever does dot dot dot then you know that it is time to leave, then you know
that you are being abused. But very few
want to carry the responsibility of drawing those lines. Very few people are willing to stand up and
scream “it’s not safe there”. Maybe it
is for fear of repercussion or they just don’t want to admit that abuse is
happening or maybe it’s just that they can’t see what is really going on. For whatever reason I didn’t get the pleasure
of having the outsider’s perspective.
Instead, I got the blessing of
being the leading lady in this movie.
Blessing…are you crazy Naomi? How
can that be a blessing? Well because it
has made me in to the woman I am today. Now
I have a passion that burns deep inside to expose the lies and the traps that
are set up to keep women in abusive relationships. Yes, it is a blessing if just one woman hears
my story and has the courage to step out and trust that God has such a better
plan if you just allow Him to write your story.
Let’s take a behind the scenes tour and hopefully gain an
insider’s perspective on being “that” girl.
For 10 years I refused to believe that I was “that” girl. After all, it wasn’t my face that was covered
in bruises and I wasn’t wearing a blood stained shirt…..no it was far worse
than that. It was my heart that was
shredded. Had the wounds that I endured
on the inside been visible for everyone to see I would have needed to be on life-support. It was my mind that had undergone years of
significant repeated head trauma. Over
the years I began to believe the lies that I wasn’t good enough for
anything. That I would never amount to
anything. That I was worthless. That the only thing I was good at was sex. That my life really wasn’t that bad. That it was all my fault. That I couldn’t help others because my life
wasn’t perfect. That I was a horrible
mom. That I was a whore. That I somehow deserved to be treated this
way. That I was incapable of making a
decision on my own. That no one knew who
I really was and if anyone was allowed to see who I was they would be so
disgusted that they wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I was dying on the inside and had nowhere to
run. I was told multiple times “I won’t
go to jail for you, they just won’t ever find your body”. Now here is where things get confusing. To me this behavior had become the norm so I
convinced myself that every “marriage” had these hidden secrets and everything
would be fine. It wasn’t until years
after I got out of the “marriage” that I realized just how close to death’s
doorstep I really was. That I began to
realize just how serious those remarks were and just how abnormal of a life I
was living.
Just like any
traumatic event it takes some serious time to heal. The healing would come sometimes
intentionally through prayer and journaling and sometimes I would stumble upon
a conversation that would change my perspective in an instant. One night I was talking with my son about the
divorce and how life looked differently now.
He said something that broke my heart and woke me up to the reality of
the hell we had been living. “Mom, you
don’t know what it was like.” I replied,
“No son you are right I don’t know what it is like to be you. I just know what I went through.” “Mom, you don’t know what it was like to try
to fall asleep listening to you guys yelling and there hearing a thud and
wondering if you were going to be alive when I woke up the next morning.” Mind you, I have NEVER spoken of abuse of any
kind with my children. I had hoped that
they were young enough that they wouldn’t remember. I had hoped that it wouldn’t have affected
them. I do not and will not shape their
view of their dad. Through a child’s
eyes is often the best way to view the world.
How was it that my son was afraid of me dying but yet I denied those
very same feelings?
I can’t say that I
never had those same feelings. I
remember one time I was getting a pedicure with one of my girlfriends and on
the cover of the magazine I was reading was a seemingly perfect family and the
mom had suddenly gone missing and the dad was the main suspect, I leaned over
and showed my girlfriend and I said “if ever I go missing remember this”. Maybe it was because I was so used to playing
like everything was perfect in front of everyone else that I really had fooled
myself that I would never be a domestic violence statistic. I imagine the mom on the cover of that
magazine thought the same thing, “oh sure he threatens it but that would never
happen to me.” Ladies, please wake up
before it is too late. If he threatens
it, it means that he has contemplated it and has already crossed some MAJOR
psychological boundaries.
There is something
different in the heart of the abuser. In
watching the video of Ray Rice and his then fiance on a casino elevator it shook
me to my core. I had a gut reaction that
immediately took me back to my years of abuse.
Oddly enough it wasn’t the initial blow that got me though. Rather it was the way he man handled her off
the elevator. It was the way he kicked
her while she was down to try to wake her up.
It was the way he looked around like “oh shit how am I gonna get out of
this one?”. That is the difference in
the heart of the abuser that I am talking about. There are some words that would never be used
to describe an abuser: caring, gentle, a sweet spirit, meek, teachable. I will admit I had a really, really, really
difficult time ever calling him an abuser.
I didn’t want to label him that.
Then just recently I was talking with God about it all and he
said….Naomi just because you say someone is something it doesn’t automatically
make them that something and just because someone says they aren’t something
doesn’t mean they aren’t. See, as with a
majority of abusers they honestly do not get that they are doing anything wrong. Ladies if you are waiting on your partner to
admit that he is abusive you will die waiting.
Abusers by nature, will blame
their actions on anyone but themselves and in turn the victim will take on the
responsibility for their actions as if they somehow deserved the abuse. Take Ray Rice’s now wife for example. She has come out and publicly said that she
was equally responsible for the incident and was apologetic for her part in
it. I can guarantee you the incident
that was caught on tape was not the first time and I doubt it will be the
last. Sure, both he and his wife are
portraying that everything is fine right now.
That they have worked through their differences and grown a lot as a
couple. Believe me when I say this, for
a time being everything will be fine.
Until the next round of waves comes.
Until she says something that enrages him, or until he has hard alcohol
again. Yes, people can change. Miracles do happen. Did you know that domestic violence calls are
some of the most dangerous calls police officers respond to? Just because of the extremely volatile
situation. More often than not the
victim turns on the police officers as the abuser is arrested. Now why in the world would that be? I believe that it is because of the head
trauma (mental abuse) that the victim has been subjected to. It messes you up. It makes you think that love really does
involve pain. That without him you are
worthless. That you deserved all of
this. That you caused him to become
enraged so it is your fault. Victims of
abuse see the world a lot differently and unless you have been in the situation
it is nearly impossible to understand the viewpoint.
This blog is not meant to cause harm nor defame any people
from my past. It is not about the pain
of the past but rather it is my hope that this blog is a threefold wakeup call
filled with hope and encouragement. Number one to anyone that reads this that is
struggling to define abuse, if it’s painful it isn’t love. Now I am not talking about simple growing
pains of a relationship. If you have
ever felt the pain that I am talking about you know it doesn’t have to be
described. Ladies, please be brave and
seek out the help that you need. There
are a lot of organizations set up to help you get out of the dangerous
situation you are in. Get out before you
are just another statistic. If you need someone to talk to please contact
me through email at naomi.carson6@yahoo.com Number two is for the church. Domestic violence is REAL whether physical,
mental or emotional it happens a lot more than what you realize. Choosing to ignore it or look the other way
doesn’t change the fact that it is happening.
Be brave and have the tough conversations. Be prepared to provide shelter for women seeking
safety. Do not I repeat DO NOT try to
fix an abusive relationship with normal relationship advice. The relationship won’t be fixed through equal
division of household duties and learning how to effectively communicate. It is much deeper than that. That is putting a bandaid on a wound that
needs thoroughly scrubbed, diagnosed by a professional and allowed plenty of
time for healing. I am not advocating
divorce. However I am a HUGE advocate
for family safety. Separate until everyone
involved feels safe. Get some
professional counseling and guidance. It
took some specialists along the way to point things out to me that I never
realized before. Number three is for
the community. Ask the tough questions
and be there to hold the persons hand as they take the first shaky steps to
safety. When that person opens up to you
and shares their heart realize that it may have taken her everything she had to
muster up the courage to tell you. Be
prepared to make some decisions for that person. It is a lot like asking a toddler where they
want to go to college. The child will have no idea what that decision even looks like. Along the way the "child" will make some decisions that will have you scratching your head wondering what they were thinking. Just sit tight. They are learning and growing. Pray for protection and wisdom during this time. Pray about the
decisions that they will need help making.
Partner with God and He will show you how each individual needs help. I was surrounded by a few friends that
offered protection, love and guidance when I needed it most. To all of you I am eternally indebted to
you. If it weren’t for your loving
presence in my life I could have been a statistic. Thank you.
Regardless of the lies being told to you, it is possible to live the life you have
always dreamed. I am living proof. You need only trust in God’s plan and know that
He will stop at NOTHING to win your heart.
You are loved with an undying love.
