I want this blog to be real, honest, and raw. I try my best to describe my feelings at the time and put you guys in that room or moment with me. I try to be this strong person who has worked so hard to move forward from the nightmare I lived through, but if I am being honest with you guys its really hard at times to be that strong person.
Friday, I went through my first court date with you guys. Wanting it to be totally accurate I went back into my files to find paperwork with the exact dates. While looking through all those papers I had found a log my mom wrote for the police. It was a 3 and a half page front and back typed up log of all the times I had called her for help. Times she could hear R yelling at me, times I called her to come try and talk him off the ledge, times I was in fear for my life, times where he held a knife to his wrists and throat, and the time he said he had thought about homicide.
Most of these events I blocked out. I hadn’t read that paper until friday. I refused to read it two years ago, and it was just as hard to read it friday. Hard enough that I really questioned writing this blog anymore. I didn’t want to go back and relive the events in my life that almost broke me. I was so weak and powerless. I was afraid that if I relived it again I wouldn’t be able to get back to this person I am now. Friday night I had the worst nightmares I have had in a very long time. I hadn’t had this one nightmare in particular for a while, but its always the same. I am back in my master bathroom at my old house, R has me pinned down. His knees on my shoulders, he is leaning over me, he has one arm on my legs holding me still and he is punching my stomach repeatedly with the other. He has a pillow over my face so even though I am screaming nobody can hear me. Now, I have been in counseling since June 4,2014. I have done this thing called EMDR that his supposed to help with memory and PTSD. This recurring dream my counselor thinks, could very well be what had happened causing me to have the placental abruption.
Reading that paper brought me right back to that helpless victim, who was ashamed, embarrassed, and terrified. I cried reading it. I was so sad that I drug my family through all that mess with me. But after seeing my counselor today she encouraged me to keep going, and share how I was feeling. She told me “Alyssa, this blog is about your thoughts, your feelings, you have made it passed that, you are strong now and will never go back to being that powerless person. You have always been a warrior, we just needed to give you your power back. Share your journey. Let your readers know its okay to have bad days, they don’t define you or take away from your progress.” And she is right. There are some days where if I didn’t have a little boy needing me to be the best damn mommy and daddy I can be, I would probably crumble. But that is part of getting strong again and being a domestic violence survivor. Its okay for me to not be this fighter every day and somedays to cry. I want to keep writing this blog to encourage others to find the strength to leave abusive relationsips and the ones who have left, that it is okay to be weak sometimes, that being weak doesn’t give your abuser the power back, and that it doesn’t take away from the progress you have made.