There's Always A Reason...

...Behind the Madness.

**This post has some slightly mature content in it**

Most of you have probably realized that I have been on a slight hiatus for quite some time now. It's not that I haven't been thinking about the blog--I have been. I've actually done more research for this blog than for any other class. So why the hiatus?

Domestic abuse education and awareness is something I'm interested in, so it's not that. The problem is that I chose something so close to home, that this project ended up allowing a lot of my past to catch up with me. Initially, I chose domestic abuse to be the subject of this blog because I felt that there wasn't enough awareness for it. Now... it's like a sort of "face-your-fears" kind of thing.

I'm sure everyone has read a personal account from an abuse survivor; I don't know how many of you have read one from someone you know, though. Which really brings up the question of: how much do you really know about the people you see a couple times a week or more? Have you ever wondered why they are the way they are (Trust me, there's always a reason)? I know I have, and I'm quite sure a lot of people have probably wondered what the hell my problem is that I seem like such a bitch half the time.

So, in explanation for my hiatus and for my sometimes odd behavior, here's my story:

My name is Chrisleigh. I am 18 (soon to be 19) years of age. When I was 11, I was physically, sexually and emotionally abused by my cousin who was in his mid twenties. It was Summer time when he came to visit us, and I was estatic to meet him for the first time. After about a week of staying with us, he began to always be where I was. Half a week after that, he molested me. Days after that, he raped me. It didn't stop until he'd left.

I'm sure you're all asking "Well, why didn't you tell someone?" It's difficult to understand why rape victims don't speak up. In my case, I had a few reasons for keeping quiet.

First of all, my mother and father raised me in a Christian home. I went to a Christian school where I was taught that sex before marriage was a terrible sin, and those that partake in sexual activity before marriage were whores. I can even remember my mother making comments at the dinner table about girls my older sister had grown up with that weren't married and were having sex. "Slutty," she'd say, "so slutty." Keeping my mouth shut also became a way for me to make sure my mother never said the word "slut" and thought of me.

Then there were the threats and mind games from my cousin. Things like "if you tell anyone, I'll kill you" or "if you tell, I'll kill your mommy and daddy" or "no one will believe you" or "if you struggle, I'll do the same thing to your sister that I did to you." If he didn't threaten me, I knew he'd beat me--but never anywhere anyone would notice. He'd bite, scratch, punch., pinch or hit me with things on my back, my shoulders, my stomach, my thighs or the back of my neck.

Emotionally, he screwed me up pretty badly. To this day, I don't think I've fully recovered. I can remember him whispering in my ear that I was a whore or that no one loved me but him. I remember him pleading with me to understand that "this is what love is." Forgetting his proclamation of  love in a few days, he'd draw blood from my barely developed breasts with his teeth and then make sure I understood that I was ugly. These memories are burned in my mind. If I listen close enough, I can still hear him whispering in my ear. If I close my eyes long enough, I can still feel the physical pain of him bruising my body inside and out.

But I was only 11--I couldn't dicern between what the reality of my options were and what he was telling me.

A month or so after he left, I began to self injury. If you've seen me, you've probably seen the etch-a-sketchs I have for arms and legs. Upon entering high school, I began to buy pills from the apartments located around the school and drink anything with alcohol content--anything to make me not feel like me. The amusing thing is, I'm a control freak. Naturally, I don't like getting drunk or high. At that time, though, I honestly can say I didn't get a damn. I just wanted to feel, think and remember nothing. The drugs and alcohol made me feel like a normal kid with nothing to worry about. When I was sober, all I felt was pain.

Since then I have been physically, emotionally and sexually abused quite a few more times. You'd probably think that after the first time, I'd know what kind of people to avoid. Unfortunately, it's not that simple. Most of the times I was abused it was purely being in the wrong place at the wrong time. A few of the other times... it was all about not caring what happened to me anymore.

It's taken me a long time to accept that I can't do anything about the cards I was dealt throughout my life thusfar. I'm doing a lot better than I was even a year ago. I'm still guarded, I'm still angry and I still hate myself, but nowhere near the degree I used to. No, I'm not a fan of men, and, yes, I do tend to question everyone's motives. My self-esteem still sucks, and, since my parents found out about the rapes about 2 years ago, I'm still dealing with the tension and resentment between myself and them. I still wish I was a virgin, at the least that I hadn't lost my virginity the way I did. It's hard to let a lot of the feelings I feel go because most of them began to manifest when I was 11. I only just started dealing with accepting the reality of my past about a year ago. You can only imagine the seven year mess I have to sort out.

Unfortunately, abuse is not as uncommon as most people would like it to be. I can almost guaruntee that there is probably at least one person (male or female) in each of your classes that has been abused in some way at some point in their lives, and you probably would never have guessed it because, honestly, victims and survivors of abuse are just like the rest of the world-- just maybe a littler quieter, a little angrier, a little more proper, a little more skittish or a little bitchier.

Please, don't pretend like abuse is only something that happens in a far away land to far away people with far away problems. When it comes down to it, we sit beside you in your lab class, we walk with you to lunch, we smile at you in the hallways, we stand shoulder to shoulder with you on battlefields, we teach your classes, we work at your favorite store, we sing your favorite song, and we all hope you won't go through what we did.

I Want Your Thoughts...

Hey, hey :)

I have an idea for an article I want to write, but before I do so, I wanted to know what you all thought of when you hear the word "abuse." What constitutes as abuse, in your opinion?

Let me know!

-Chrisleigh

Maybe It's Just a Rant

Hey again,

Just as a disclaimer, I don't know if any studies have been done on anything I'm about to say nor do I feel like taking the time to check. The following is straight out of my head; I haven't taken any time to plan out the order it should be written in (so be prepared to jump from subject to subject and then back again), what I should write or anything else of the sort. I'm not even sure it'll be in AP format (though I'm sure I'll be asked to put it in that format eventually). So here we go...

Actually, before we begin, please be aware that there might be some pictures throughout this post that aren't all rainbows and butterflys.

Domestic abuse. Most people, I'd think, have heard that term. I'm sure quite a few of the people who read this article can even remember someone they've seen with a busted up face or bruises on their arms-- and maybe the damage wasn't that bad; maybe you could barely notice it was there. Even more of you have probably never seen anyone like this. Some people ask, "If someone's being abused, wouldn't you be able to tell?"

Thus, a common misconception about abuse is born. You can't always see the damage left by abuse. First of all, domestic abuse comes in many different shapes and sizes: physical, emotional, sexual, threats, intimidation, isolation and even economic. Now, I'm not going to take the time to go into explaining the different facets of abuse in this post, but, my point is, people can hide the damage of abuse. The next question I frequently here is, "If someone's really being abused, wouldn't they call the cops or just leave?"

And another misconception takes on the fetus form. Just because a victim of abuse won't seek help from the law or leave doesn't mean that they're not being abused. Neither does it mean (and it really irks the hell out of me that some people actually think this) that they like the abuse. ***Being a victim of abuse and having a reason as to why you won't leave that relationship or ask for help from the law is NOT the same as being a damn masochist.*** There are quite a few reasons, actually, that victims of abuse choose not to leave the relationship.

So here's the list of reasons I've compiled from the conversations I remember having with people (It's not in any specific order):

1. Fear
2. Lack of financial resources
3. Loss of connection between them and their friends or family has lead to a lack of support if they were to leave
4. Religion
5. Children
6. Health
7. Love
8. The idea that "things will get better"
9. The rememberence of "what happened last time" they tried to leave
10. Age

Again, I'm not going to take the time to go into each one of these reasons (though I'm sure some of them could use some kind of explanation-- but this post is more of a rant than anything else), but I just wanted to reiterate what so many survivors of abuse try to explain to the general public: there isn't enough education provided to the public about their options in the case of domestic abuse. The other issue is that the education about this kind of thing really needs to start in the school systems because some victims no longer have the luxury of the access to anything that might help them leave (like a domestic abuse prevention class).

I don't know where I was going with this post. Maybe it was just a way for me to let some things go.

Not My Father's Child (AP Style Revisions)

Not My Father's Child
by Chrisleigh C.

Talia Smith has yet to forget the sting of her father’s hand across her cheek or the bite of his steel toed boot between her ribs. She was in high school as a senior at the time, but it wasn’t the first time he had laid hands on her. Still, this particular incident of abuse Talia remembers best

She had returned home from school that day ecstatic that her boyfriend hadn’t found a reason to be upset with her. He too showed violent tendencies towards Talia. “I think I practically skipped through my front door when I got home,” Talia recounts. Her perfect day was cut short when she met her father in the kitchen. She could smell the alcohol on his breath before she saw him. She admits that she should have walked back out her front door, but she stepped into the kitchen instead. “I thought maybe that it would be different that time,” Talia says, “I always thought that it’d be different.”

She greeted her father and asked him if he’d had the chance to send out her college applications.  Instead of an answer, he threw his head back, laughing. Angered at his lack of regard for her future, Talia made a fatal mistake and turned her back on him. “I called him an asshole as I walked away, and that was all it took,” Talia recalls.

Talia remembers being spun around and meeting her father’s sharp knuckles. She recalls him slurring something about respect. “Then he hit me again,” Talia says, “This time on the other side of the face, and I could feel the blood dripping down from my eyebrow.” Talia tried to push her raging father away, but he caught her wrists in an iron grip. Instead of drawing back to hit her with his fist again, he grabbed a glass pitcher and cracked it against the side of Talia’s face. “I felt the glass shatter more than I heard it,” Talia reiterates in a hollow tone, “There were slivers of it stuck in the left side of my face and nose.” After countless more ruthless blows to the face, Mr. Smith released Talia’s wrists, and she fell to the ground, bleeding. “You know I love you, Talia,” he said. Talia responded with a bitter laugh, refusing to cry. “No, you don’t,” she said, and she spat blood at his feet. His steel toed boots met her ribs before she could move out of the way. With each kick, a sickening crack thudded in Talia’s ears. “And then I blacked out,” says Talia. Two days later, she woke up in the intensive care unit for the seventh time during her high school career.

Now 14 years later, Talia is 32 years old and a four year veteran of a healthy marriage. She met her husband, Eric, in a bar she worked in during her first few college years. They do not currently have any children, but they hope to one day.

Talia left home after her last hospitalization and worked as a bartender in Raleigh. During this time she recieved her master's degree in Zoology and master's degree in Psychology. A few months after meeting her husband, she spent six months in Africa doing wildlife conservation. Upon her return, Talia decided that she wanted to do some kind of volunteer work. She was drawn to InterAct, a domestic abuse shelter and place of counseling.

InterAct is a private, non-profit, United Way agency that seeks to provide support, safety, and awareness to domestic abuse survivors as well as rape and sexual assualt survivors. Typically, volunteers for InterAct stay about five months before they move on to a different part of their career or another volunteer agency. Talia has been with InterAct for five years. In those five years, she has worked hard and become the head counselor. "[It has] been a real blessing and a curse," Talia says. Working for InterAct can be a 24-hour job. Talia also says that the personal effects of working with InterAct can be trying.

Each counselor at InterAct typically deals with 20 or more families a day. This creates a high stress environment. Even after leaving the job site, however, Talia says she goes home and is struck with an enormous amount of constant worry for the people and families that she spoke with that day. To keep her sanity, Talia says that working for InterAct requires a "balance of empathy and resilience." Obviously, volunteers can't be completely detached from the people they are working with--they have to care. At the same time, however, they can't let the day to day tragedies interfere with their personal lives. Her personal life isn't the only thing Talia has to worry about, though. She has been married to Eric for four years, and her job has a strong possibility of disrupting their marriage.

The first few years working with InterAct were the hardest on Talia's and Eric's marriage. After spending all day talking and listening, when Talia returns home to Eric, she doesn't feel like doing either. "It's not good," Talia reflects, "because when I got home, I wouldn't want to discuss some of the important things that married couples need to talk about." After a series of trial and error over the course of those first few years, Eric and Talia developed a way to preserve their marriage in the face of Talia's work. They call it "Talia Time." When Talia comes home from work, she and Eric spend time together, but they refrain from talking for an hour. That hour gives Talia the time she needs to wind down from work. Talia says that her work at InterAct really makes them appreciate their marriage. During the interview, Talia smiled and said, "It really helps, you know, to have a supportive and loving husband." Her smile was almost bright enough to cover up all the ghosts of her past.

While Talia still struggles to let go of her own personal experiences with domestic abuse, she also struggles to forget some of the survivors with whom she has worked. Their stories are sometimes too brutal for her to handle. Her most well remembered clients include a 4-year-old rape victim who she sat with at the hospital while evidence was collected and a 23-year-old mother who was tied to a chair and set on fire. "Their stories are horrific," Talia almost whispers. Through it all, however, Talia says that even while their stories are sometimes almost impossible to bear, the success stories are what get her from one client to the next.

Reminders and Ideas

Hello everyone!

Well, we've started October now, so I want to remind everyone that October is DOMESTIC ABUSE AWARENESS MONTH. The color ribbon that you can wear to show your support is PURPLE.

Also, please remember that InterAct's candlelight vigil is coming up on the 19th (two weeks from today!). The event will take place at 7 o'clock in the evening at Downtown Raleigh's Crime Victim Memorial Garden at the corner of Lane St. and Wilmington St. If you need directions, please click here.

I'm aware that a lot of people have extremely busy schedules, and they can't make it to any of the events Raleigh is planning for the awareness month. Fortunately, there are things you can do that don't take any time at all. I have put together a list of things you can do to show your support without going out of your way to any of the events.

SHOW YOUR SUPPORT:

1. Wear a purple ribbon all month long, and carry a small bag of them around with you. If someone asks you about the ribbon, explain its meaning and ask if they'd like to wear one to show their support.
2. Put a jar at your work/school desk. Let your co-workers and/or classmates donate any loose change to the jar; at the end of the month, send it to a local domestic abuse shelter (I suggest InterAct).
3. Light a candle in honor of domestic abuse/rape/sexual assault victims and survivors.
4. Recycle a used cell phone to Verizon-- the recycled cell phones go to battered women. Click here to read about how Verizon uses the recycled cell phones to aid victims of domestic violence.
5. Put a stack of printed statistics about domestic abuse on your desk-- hand them out to the people who walk by. This might not sound like a big deal, but being aware of a problem is the first step to finding a solution.
6. E-mail (or text) your contacts list a brief summary of Domestic Abuse Awareness Month, and ask them to wear a purple ribbon.

I look forward to seeing everyone at the candlelight vigil in two weeks; if you're planning on coming, please drop me a comment. I'd love to have some pictures taken of everyone for the blog.

Sincerely,
Chrisleigh

Not My Father's Child (DRAFT)

Not My Father's Child
by Chrisleigh C.

Talia Smith has yet to forget the sting of her father’s hand across her cheek or the bite of his steel toed boot between her ribs. She was in high school as a senior at the time, but it wasn’t the first time he had laid hands on her. Still, this particular incident of abuse Talia remembers best

She had returned home from school that day ecstatic that her boyfriend hadn’t found a reason to be upset with her. He too showed violent tendencies towards Talia. “I think I practically skipped through my front door when I got home,” Talia recounts. Her perfect day was cut short when she met her father in the kitchen. She could smell the alcohol on his breath before she saw him. She admits that she should have walked back out her front door, but she stepped into the kitchen instead. “I thought maybe that it would be different that time,” Talia says, “I always thought that it’d be different.”

She greeted her father and asked him if he’d had the chance to send out her college applications.  Instead of an answer, he threw his head back, laughing. Angered at his lack of regard for her future, Talia made a fatal mistake and turned her back on him. “I called him an asshole as I walked away, and that was all it took,” Talia recalls.
Talia remembers being spun around and meeting her father’s sharp knuckles. She recalls him slurring something about respect. “Then he hit me again,” Talia says, “This time on the other side of the face, and I could feel the blood dripping down from my eyebrow.” Talia tried to push her raging father away, but he caught her wrists in an iron grip. Instead of drawing back to hit her with his fist again, he grabbed a glass pitcher and cracked it against the side of Talia’s face. “I felt the glass shatter more than I heard it,” Talia reiterates in a hollow tone, “There were slivers of it stuck in the left side of my face and nose.” After countless more ruthless blows to the face, Mr. Smith released Talia’s wrists, and she fell to the ground, bleeding. “You know I love you, Talia,” he said. Talia responded with a bitter laugh, refusing to cry. “No, you don’t,” she said, and she spat blood at his feet. His steel toed boots met her ribs before she could move out of the way. With each kick, a sickening crack thudded in Talia’s ears. “And then I blacked out,” says Talia. Two days later, she woke up in the intensive care unit for the seventh time during her high school career.

Now fourteen years later, Talia is thirty-two years old and a four year veteran of a healthy marriage. She met her husband, Eric, in a bar she worked in during her first few college years. They do not currently have any children, but they hope to one day.

Talia left home after her last hospitalization and worked as a bartender in Raleigh. During this time she recieved her Master's Degree in Zoology and Master's Degree in Psychology. A few months after meeting her husband, she spent six months in Africa doing wildlife conservation. Upon her return, Talia decided that she wanted to do some kind of volunteer work. She was drawn to InterAct, a domestic abuse shelter and place of counseling.

InterAct is a private, non-profit, United Way agency that seeks to provide support, safety, and awareness to domestic abuse survivors as well as rape and sexual assualt survivors. Typically, volunteers for InterAct stay about five months before they move on to a different part of their career or another volunteer agency. Talia has been with InterAct for five years. In those five years, she has worked hard and become the head counselor. "[It has] been a real blessing and a curse," Talia says. Working for InterAct can be a 24-hour job. Talia also says that the personal effects of working with InterAct can be trying.

Each counselor at InterAct typically deals with twenty or more families a day. This creates a high stress environment. Even after leaving the job site, however, Talia says she goes home and is struck with an enormous amount of constant worry for the people and families that she spoke with that day. To keep her sanity, Talia says that working for InterAct requires a "balance of empathy and resilience." Obviously, volunteers can't be completely detached from the people they are working with--they have to care. At the same time, however, they can't let the day to day tragedies interfere with their personal lives. Her personal life isn't the only thing Talia has to worry about, though. She has been married to Eric for four years, and her job has a strong possibility of disrupting their marriage.

The first few years working with InterAct were the hardest on Talia's and Eric's marriage. After spending all day talking and listening, when Talia returns home to Eric, she doesn't feel like doing either. "It's not good," Talia reflects, "because when I got home, I wouldn't want to disucss some of the important things that married couples need to talk about." After a series of trial and error over the course of those first few years, Eric and Talia developed a way to preserve their marriage in the face of Talia's work. They call it "Talia Time." When Talia comes home from work, she and Eric spend time together, but they refrain from talking for an hour. That hour gives Talia the time she needs to wind down from work. Talia says that her work at InterAct really makes them appreciate their marriage. During the interview, Talia smiled and said, "It really helps, you know, to have a supportive and loving husband." Her smile was almost bright enough to cover up all the ghosts of her past.

While Talia still struggles to let go of her own personal experiences with domestic abuse, she also struggles to forget some of the survivors with whom she has worked. Their stories are sometimes too brutal for her to handle. Her most well remembered clients inclue a four year old rape victim who she sat with at the hospital while evidence was collected and a twenty-three year old mother who was tied to a chair and set on fire. "Their stories are horrific," Talia almost whispers. Through it all, hwoever, Talia says that even while their stories are sometimes almost impossible to bear, the success stories are what get her from one client to the next.

Awareness Month

Hello everyone!

I'd like to bring to everyone's attention that the month of October is Domestic Abuse Awareness Month!

Like most other awareness months, Domestic Abuse Awareness Month has chosen a specific colored ribbon -- purple -- to represent the support of its cause.

The following is a list of events that you can attend in order to show your support: **You will have to scroll down on some pages to view the correct event

**October 8th, 6 PM Candlelight Vigil/Memorial Observance
October 19th, 7 PM InterAct's Candlelight Vigil
October 22cd, 6 PM Benefit Concert