The article caused a shift in my thoughts...I hadn't ever thought of using politically incorrect terms to describe the real violence that occurs within our homes and relationships. It is a form of torture and should be called by its name. I am finding more and more support for the "violence is violence no matter what level it occurs on".
I really believe that the government funds all of these separate entities as a way of keeping them divided...
United we stand, divided we fall.
Perhaps "me too" needs to exist on the individual level as well as a societal level...perhaps we should begin to appreciate our similarities instead of focusing on our differences. That doesn't mean that we hide our unique characteristics...we bring those to the table to increase the depth of understanding and create meaningful solutions.
I am helping a DV shelter/Rape crisis center develop an 8 week program for high school students. I am responsible for the internet lessons- Sexting and Cyberbullying...I am so thrilled to be able to juxtapose these two issues and show their similarities and hopefully allow the students to see the common threads.
It's funny, I don't remember B#2 missing vacation for a hospitalization...I am wracking my brain and cannot come up with that memory. Why does that escape me and yet I can remember most of the shit that S#3 went throughout? Does that have to do with our age differences or did I not care that he wasn't along?
When I think about the summers at home with the boys I am amazed and appalled that we were left like that...
Parties way too frequently...
Teenage boys all over the house...
Drugs and alcohol...we are lucky that we are alive really.
I have always felt that the parents were just giving up...they were tired and couldn't muster the energy or the "give a damn" to be protective...like the song, "My give-a-damn's busted"...or maybe we weren't worth protecting...they took the two youngest along...maybe that's one of the reasons that they both feel as if we grew up in different families...maybe they were cherished and nurtured...I find it hard to believe that the parents could have rallied...but maybe they consciously or unconsciously valued them more...maybe I and S#3 were already unworthy...even though they deny knowing anything about the abuse...I should say Mom denies it, Dad has never talked to me about any of this, but then again I haven't given him an opportunity either.
I had a dream last night...I was in a room with 2 men, one older and one younger. They were dressed as Middle Easterners...and I became acutely aware of being watched...that I was alone with these two and that although they did not speak they were communicating with each other. I became quite uncomfortable and decided to leave the room, as I moved towards the door the younger man started to slowly close it with his foot. I ran and grabbed the door frame and yelled for help, many people came running to help me. This is one of the only times that I've called for help and had people respond.
I woke up...not in a panic, but comforted that others came when I called.
That's all for now...
Love and Light,
Maggie
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