Sunday, November 27, 2005

Someone recently asked me what my disability was . . .

. . . and I found my answer, while simple, interesting in it's ability to capture in so little space, something so complex? Here's what I wrote;

"Well, the fancy terms are Battered Wife Syndrome, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and Chronic Depression.  In simpler terms, I'm trying to recover from years of abuse, from being raped, and violated more than once, by people who claimed to love and respect me.  From trying time and again to live the life expected of me, regardless of what  is possible.  I'm attempting to recover from years of being a good little girl, working harder and harder to make EVERYONE
around me happy thinking if I just work hard enough, fast enough and better than anyone else that eventually people would love me. I'm attempting to recover from demands and expectations well outside what could ever be considered reasonable. I have serious problems having people demand more from me than can reasonably be expected from five people and be expected to do it all instantly, because invariably they are unwilling to accept responsibility for their own actions, and are not accountable. I have problems being treated like a little girl, told time and again that people around me were going to do something by a certain time and then NEVER doing it. I'm suffering from having asked for almost nothing and gotten so much less that it made me question what was wrong with me so often I actually believed I must be some kind of freak, some kind of evil creature for having a heart and mind. I'm suffering from being a woman with simple needs in a world of madness, greed and malice for people who are honest, feeling and emotional. I'm suffering from life.

I'm sorry that was so dark, but unfortunately this is what I've been "living" with and right now quite honestly it has been, for more than a year, a battle to stay alive. Domestic Violence against women and children is a plague on this planet, and I happened to be such a bad girl that people felt they could use and discard me. Rape is bad enough, horrible enough that I feel it should be a capitol offense, being beaten and raped by someone who worked hard to gain my trust, respect and love is even worse. I'm not perfect, and to answer my father's question (What did you do to deserve this?) anytime something went wrong; "I freely admit my guilt, I had a major hand in my own fate, I brought this on myself by loving, trusting, and respecting people who claimed to love me." Yes, I'm guilty, it's all my fault, just shoot me and put me out of everyone's misery . . .

Ellie just pointed out that she gets the sarcasm in this last paragraph, and I should point out that yes, there is a great deal of that there. It hasn't really made any of this easier, hasn't made dealing with the agony of life simpler, hasn't given me the resources I need to fight back. While not quite at the same level, my lawyer(s) even have treated me in a similar fashion, discounting and disregarding my feelings, my needs because I don't have huge amounts of money to throw their way.
You see my EX took everything from me when he left me . . .

So that's the nickel tour. Sorry ladies to be so dark and heavy, but this is the shortest answer I could give . . ."

No comments: