Tag Archives: Domestic violence

They don’t want to hear my stories.  They refuse to believe what I say.

“Show me your scars,” they tell me, crossing their arms in disdain.  “Prove to me the harm he has done.  Without physical proof of your pain, I have to assume you have none.”

I suppose it is easy for the outsider to distrust wounds for which there is no physical evidence.  And I confess, such indifference further adds to my pain.

If only he would hit me.  Sometimes I wish he would.  Then they might understand what he has put me through, how much it hurts, that some of the deepest wounds never bleed.  Maybe if my bones were broken, if blood flowed from all the hurting places, the cynics and know-it-alls would not be so quick to downplay my fears or tell me that the things he does or says are inconsequential.

His mouth is full of curses and deceit and oppression; under his tongue is mischief and wickedness.

Proverbs 10:7

Just because an abuser is not raging does not mean he is suddenly safe or honest or genuine.  An abuser’s words cannot be trusted.  He is an artful deceiver and, in many cases, an out-and-out liar.  Words are simply a tool that can be fashioned to support his desired reality.

Of course, a healthy relationship should be grounded in truth, honesty and mutual concern, but the abuser does not share these values.  His primary concern is his own welfare, and where honesty should reign, he will not hesitate to construct and reconstruct a psychological house of mirrors that his victim must slog her way through, her objective being to somehow find some hard truth to hold onto amid the confusion.  The typical abuser seems quite adept at avoidance, deflection, deception, redirection, feigning ignorance, shifting blame or simply lying when the need arises.

In one such scenario, he might arrive home with an outlandishly expensive tool or toy that is either unnecessary or unaffordable (probably not the first time), but it’s something he wants.  Shocked by his spontaneous purchase, you may broach the issue by saying, “I thought we agreed we would not make any big purchases without discussing them.”

Very recently, I received an e-mail from the sister of an abuse victim. It seems the writer’s abusive brother-in-law has instigated hostilities between himself and his victim-wife and her family. At one point, he threatened to seek a restraining order against his wife’s parents, and they no longer have contact with her. As a result of this craziness, the victim’s family is strongly considering relinquishing the poor woman to her chosen fate based on their belief that she is either apathetic or condones the abuser’s behaviors.

The victim’s sister contacted me in an effort to better understand why her sister would accept these happenings. She provided some background and then posed these questions to me:

“When you were in your abusive relationship – were you cruel also? This has been going on for two years. I’m starting not to care about her – she’s a faint memory and the pain they have both caused – well her own parents are shut down and done. If you shut off family – did they take you back?”

“The heart is more deceitful than all else and is desperately sick; who can understand it?”  Jeremiah 17:9

I tromped downstairs in my usual stupor one weekday morning to brew a fresh pot of coffee before heading to work and found our black Labrador, Belle, at the foot of the stairs, wagging her tail enthusiastically and prancing about in anticipation of her breakfast.  On most days, one of the kids beats me to the task, yet Belle has learned that if she puts on a good show, she might succeed in convincing me or any other unsuspecting family member who ventures downstairs later in the morning that she is famished.  Our clever dog has often enjoyed a second meal before one of us realizes that we have been duped by her well-rehearsed antics.

“Hope deferred makes the heart sick…” Proverbs 13:12

From a very young age, my second-born son, Brett, was positively delightful.  He had a contagious smile that could light up a room, bright, dancing eyes and a playful, charming, sensitive disposition.  That is the image of Brett I prefer to remember.

But as the years passed, and my marriage began to crumble under the weight of abuse, neglect and drug and alcohol abuse, I saw my happy, fun-loving Brett begin to withdraw.  The slow progression over time transformed Brett from his lively, fun-loving self into a young boy who was sullen and introverted.  Brett struggled in school, spent long hours alone in his room, comforted himself with junk food, or escaped the tension of our home life by immersing himself in movies and video games.