Pagina 2 van 3
Geplaatst: vr aug 22, 2008 8:30 pm
We gaan weer even door met de weblog van escapingthepain.
Friday, August 22, 2008
I think I've realized and I should admit to myself that I am seriously depressed at the moment.
I can't even read a book - which is bad news for me! and of all people - I love reading my books!
I don't want to get up in the mornings, I don't want to face anything, I just want to run away and hide and cry.
I had a weird dream tonight (mind you it was only a couple of hours ago and it's 2am in the morning):
I'd gotten my own place to live in - I was speaking with my docs worker on the phone and she told me that they'd found nothing to prevent husband from seeing the kids unsupervised... so in my dream I was in my house - a beautiful house with blue tiles in the kitchen and blue curtains (oooohhhh!!!!:)) And husband was in my kitchen with me! He cuddled me and it was so nice and I was feeling happy, he was so nice to me even though in my dream I was thinking "I wish this could go on forever! Why does it have to go bad every time?"... He was so gentle with me, he didn't hurt me at all, and said nice things to me and I was basking in his love of me... suddenly I realised in my dream that he wasn't supposed to be inside my house and that I could get into trouble for that, so I looked out the window and saw my docs worker driving into the driveway, so I pushed husband out and yelled at him, "Go, go, go!" so he left and I was left standing there...
And that's when I woke up.
I will never get to be held again will I? I will never get to be wanted by a man who loves me just for me will I? I will always be alone. And he will always be angry with me now. He won't want me now. I've been a bad wife and he will hate me for it, and even if he were to say he forgave me for talking to the authorities it wouldn't mean much as he is one who never forgets and would probably keep me just for the sake of having me - but hate me enough that he abandones me in my house and never touches me again. I know how it works. I know he will never get over it - but he'd like the ability to have me there and do whatever he wants.
Oh god, I'm grieving again! It's so painful! I miss him, I love him and I didn't even really realize how much. This is so painful and I'm tearing up here!
The docs worker spoke with him, he denied everything, he said he'd never touched me and that he doesn't know how I'd gotten the injuries. That upset me, I guess it still does upset me as how stupid does he think everyone is to believe him when I had bruises all over my leg and on my face and ear? Why does he do this? Does he really believe that he never did nothing, or is he just trying to get out of it all?
I'm tired - I think I'll go back to sleep, hope I can through this period of my life where everything seems so slow and stupid. Hope I can live through everything and not want to cry all the time any more.
Bye for now,
The children are doing great! Son has learned to stand and daughter is watching Micky Mouse on television...
DV group yesterday was great! I kind of just started talking and couldn't seem to stop, my emotions were just spouting and pouring forth and I was almost about to cry in front of the other ladies, I told them things that I'd never dare tell anyone, and it was weird to see their reactions as I kinda thought that this was normality - not abnormal. I met a girl I'd met in the other safehouse and it was good to see her although I didn't recognise her at first. They are a great support just to know that there are other people out there who experience the same feelings as me and have gone through similar experiences as me.
Sorry about the emotional outburst this morning, I'm still missing him, I don't know why, it's irrational I know, and I keep feeling like I can't make it on my own even though I know I can. I feel so scared you know. Scared to do this all by myself without him to tell me what to do and when to do it. It's freeing yes, and I enjoy the freedom but it's also scary. What's going to happen with my life, will they believe what I've said or just laugh?
I'm afraid they will say he should get access to the kids, which if he does I don't know what I'll do...
I want to order a pizza - but I don't have any money on me at the moment and am too scared to walk to the ATM to get it. Mmmmm... I'd like to order a pizza and coke and icecream and garlic bread and just pig out tonight... I've spent too much time being strong and I just want to melt into a crying blubbering mess for a day and not worry about anyone or anything else. hahahaha, I know I sound a little whacky I know, but hey I hold it together so much it's really tiring!
I've got a whole stack of dvds there that the son of one of the ladies here loaned to me, really good dvds like, Six Feet Under and Cracker, so I think I'll forget everything once the kids have fallen asleep and just watch these movies and forget my life.
Sorry, I'm really down today I know, I'm just really feeling low, unconfidant, scared, and I think that is the only reason I really miss him is because I'm really vulnerable and lonely at the moment and it isn't anything with substance. At the end of the day, I don't need a man to feel happy and I don't need a man who kicks me and spits on me and controls my every move... I don't need that, and I won't put up with the domestic abuse cycle any more. I deserve more than that! Afterall, I am the one who gave birth (and that takes really strength!) to my two beautiful children without drugs! and that strength doesn't come from no-where.
Oooohhhh, I just want to write and write and write at the moment, don't know why, just want to put my thoughts onto the screen (well it isn't paper is it?! ), maybe it's just a thing I do so I won't cry as I really want to cry but am typing so it feels better when I type.
Anyways, buy for now, darling son is standing in his cot and is rocking back and forth and giggling away it is so cute! :) :) :) :)!!!!!
Geplaatst: za aug 23, 2008 11:43 am
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Congrats to Me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Yayyyyyyyyy!!!!
Guess What I did today????!!!!!!!!!!!!![/
I ate ham (pig; swine; haram meat), in fact I ate lots and lots of it on my pizza that I ordered!
Yes! I am definitely a murtad now! I actually enjoyed it - which is funny as just thinking about eating that impure substance a couple of days ago would've made me be close to puking!
So, that's one thing more off my list...
What's the next haram thing I can do?... Oh yeah, I've promised myself that I will have a sip of alcohol, just a sip - not going to get drunk, I just want to try this evil, prohibited substance for myself and see what all the fuss it about LOL!!!
So... You all think I'm well-and-truly mad now... What can I say??? I'm trying to get myself to look at the world through a different set of glasses - one's that show the world through normality and humanity instead of "HARAM" and death to the kufaar! Oh, so tired of all the crap, just want to be however I please and be normal and look after my children to be decent, moral people who are a contribution to society instead of a "curse" (read inserted in place of "curse" - read "mujahid" or "suicide-bomber" or "shahid" or "matyr" or "fighter on the path of allah"). I just want to be a normal person with my passions and my outlook on life where everything is there to be treated with respect in the world and to live my life to the best of my ability and not get stressed over everything.
I sure hope they will help me start a new life like they said they might be able to. I really hope they do.
I watched Accepted today - really everyone, it is a great movie - in fact one of the best in terms of the morals behind the movie... I loved it, and am thinking about actually buying it so I will have a copy of my own and can watch it again and again whenever I start feeling really inferior to the rest of the world.
Anyways, will be going now, I've got to get my son off to bed - daughter is already asleep, which is great as she was soooooooo active today and making son really upset because she was getting in his personal space. She hit her head today against the table when she was spinning around, and now she has a shocker lump on her forehead - tomorrow it's going to be a real bruise!
Lots of Love from,
Geplaatst: ma aug 25, 2008 12:39 pm
Sunday, August 24, 2008
The Silent ScreamThis morning I did the silent scream in the shower. I came so close to actually crying, but didn't manage. It's so frustrating, I'm like on the brink of collapsing into a mess and I can't even manage to get one tear out. Instead I just hold it all in and try to be brave.
Inside I'm screaming, a piercing wailing cry. But on my outside as usual I present my front of collectedness. I so much want to self-harm at the moment, I'm so tired of being all-together, I'm so tired of fighting, I'm so tired of trying to make everything OK when nothing is.
I'm afraid you know. I'm scared. This isn't the way I'd thought my life could be like. This is not the way at all. I should be grateful you know, to be safe with my children out of harms way - however I feel so scared and afraid and I keep on wishing I could go back... That maybe I could somehow make everything OK and get him to love me and we could have a happy family... I know, keep dreaming! But that's the way I feel and I'm trying to ignore these stupid feelings but they keep coming back.
I want to cry you know, but nothing comes out. I look at my children and I force myself to smile for their sakes but I'm just so low I can't seem to feel happiness. I don't know how to get through this period of time at the moment. It's like having a massive brick wall to climb and I don't know how or where to start or even if it is possible. I feel like there are no safety harnesses - and I don't know what's on the other side so I'm scared. Maybe what is back here is safer? Maybe the grass is greener on my side of the wall? Maybe I'd be better off staying - and the thing is I'm climbing up - and I really can't look back, I've just got to concentrate on the task at hand - just getting up this damn wall!
Buerocrocy sucks, sorry it just does. Converting sucks, it really does. Being me, sucks. Anyways, will go now, sorry for the whining - that's what I'm doing lately is whine whine whine and I can't seem to stop the whining,
Geplaatst: ma aug 25, 2008 1:04 pm
die mevrouw heeft m.i. een serieuze depressie en dringend nood aan psycholigsche bijstand.
Straks kraakt ze en gaat ze nog terug naar die labbekak.
Geplaatst: ma aug 25, 2008 1:18 pm
Ze heeft up en downs. Ze is aan het afkicken.
Ik denk niet dat ze weer terug gaat, want ze heeft een instantie schriftelijk toestemming gegeven dat als ze naar hem toe gaat, ze haar kinderen moeten afpakken.
Ik vermoed dat ze een rouw proces door maakt. Ze is ook nog eens heel jong. Pas 21 jaar, en ze heeft weer contact met haar ouders. Die hebben haar gezegd dat ze thuis moet komen, maar dat wil ze niet, omdat haar ouders heel streng gelovig zijn. "They are Brethren, previously ana-baptist (beachy Amish )" zegt ze zelf.
Ze wil niet meer dat haar kinderen geïndoctrineerd worden.
Geplaatst: ma aug 25, 2008 1:24 pm
toch leuk die religieuze toestanden allemaal! Gelukkig dat die mensen na de hel hier op aarde dan in een paradijs terechtkunnen.
alhoewel: rijstpap met gouden lepeltjes voor eeuwig en eeuwig? lijkt me slecht voor de lijn.
Geplaatst: do aug 28, 2008 12:07 am
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
My apologizes to all for my lack of replies to your comments, I've been very busy and have just been moved to another refuge/ safehouse.
It's nice here, taking a little time to get used to but still, nice.
I'm so tired, it's 1am in the morning, but I want to write, have been listening to son cry for the last hour and daughter fell out of bed earlier (poor baby).
Spoke with an Aunty last night, and told her some things of what's been happening to me. She told me, "Come up! Come up! Come stay with us!" I'm not coming up but won't tell her that, I've got kids, and I'm not going to go up there just because she says I should. She's a lovely person, but I'm not doing that. She was so upset about my husband and what he's done to me. She wanted to know why I'd stayed and I told her and she understood as she's been through bad relationships before. She's funny you know, she gets her knickers tied up in knots instead of trusting people to make their own descisions in life. Oh well, at least I know now that my grandmother is doing good!
Being human is a weird experience... you wonder if there is any experience for other creatures...? Do they feel, is there any wonderment that goes on by them? Or do they just live and go on without any recognition that they have a beautiful world to live in that is sometimes scary as well?
We spent alot of our married life sleeping separately. He didn't want to sleep in the same room as me, and when we did share a bed many times I'd still not be allowed near him and had to squash myself so I wouldn't accidently touch him and have him yell or kick or hit me for it. So many nights I mourned that my own husband wouldn't sleep with me, that he preffered to sleeping on the couch to sleeping next to me.
Sometimes I begged him, sometimes I acted as though it was good for him to sleep separately from me - but he was smart he'd suss it out and find out that I really wanted him to sleep in my bed so he'd avoid it on purpose. Now I can see how much the punishment in the Qu'ran can really hurt a woman... first you admonish her (verbally abuse her), then you leave her bed, then you beat her. I got all three pretty much all of the time. Sometimes he'd treat me by coming to bed and letting me snuggle up next to him - but most of the time it was always something I'd said or done or been ect...
And for a period of six months I was forced to wear hijab to bed as my husband said that I wasn't his wife any more and that he didn't want to see my 'awra.
What is it about the woman's awra that makes men go so crazy? Husband told me that the more religious a man is the more he wants to do you know what - and that whenever he sees a woman uncovered that it throws wood on the fire and that the man goes crazy at such a thing! I used to wonder why he went all "crazy" at the sight of some forbidden woman - and yet he wouldn't even look at me? He'd watch porn on the internet and then demand I do the same things, and sometimes he'd act as though i wasn't even there when he was doing you know what - it was like he was in a world of his own and I didn't exist - only my body did.
I'm going to bed now anyway,
Geplaatst: do aug 28, 2008 12:17 am
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
It's seven pm. I am listening to Celine Dion! The kids are in bed - son asleep & daughter almost asleep!
I feel ok you know. I feel alright tonight. Maybe things'll be OK after all you know? Docs came today to talk with me and they were talking about husband's denial of what had happened and I felt really sad. Really really really sad. I missed him. I felt like breaking down and crying. I didn't hear what anyone was saying to me as I wasn't really here - I was grieving and wishing to high heavens that I hadn't left him that I'd persevered in trying to make things work. They told me that he'd told them to tell me that he loves me and is really really sorry. I hate those words, I really do. How many times has he said them? How many times do I have to hear them and get hurt before I truly understand what his sorrys and I love yous are all about. It hurts. It really hurts. Truth hurts and I just wanted to bury my head in the sand and forget all he has done and go back to him and have him hug me and tell me he loves me.
But then tonight, after I'd bathed the kids, and had them both on my bed and we were reading a story together and I realized that this was what I'd wanted all along. To be able to sit with my children and read them a book without fear of him coming home... or unable to read them a story because he'd be at home. This is true happiness you know. To live without fear of being hit, without fear of those painful words, without fear of the comments and the put-downs, without fear of being made to go in the bedroom without notice. And when I felt that happiness I no longer missed him. I realized that it's OK to love someone... but the fear they instill in you is not OK, it is not happiness and one can never be truly happy in such a situation... how can you be? On-guard at all times? Worrying, stressing, overanalysing everything to protect yourself from what will happen?
No, this is happiness, this is peace. It's all right here, and it is beautiful and lovely and I don't have to fear any more. I just need to remember this feeling so i can bring it with me whereever I go.
No fear. I can feed my children and not be told I'm feeding them the wrong way. I can listen to music and feed my soul with the beautiful music that makes my soul sing. I can just lay here on my bed and type and not worry about him barging through the door and hurting me. No fear. Is this the way life is supposed to be? Is life supposed to be like this? It feels so nice and scary at the same time... I keep wondering, "When is this all going to crumble down around me and I have to protect myself again."
People say I'm strong, but what they don't understand is that is just a character trait I've developed over time to cope with what life throws at me. That's what you do, you just do what's needed, there isn't anything else you can do afterall. What I need to learn to do is to stop trying to protect myself all the time and learn how to trust - truly trust... I don't truly trust anyone, no one... someone might think I do trust them, but I don't, I expect to be stabbed in the back by anyone and everyone - I won't admit it to you, but that is the way it is. How can you trust anyone when you need to be on-guard all the time to protect yourself from what could happen to you? But this is no longer helpful to me. I'm an adult now, I do have control over my life don't I??? So I can choose who I want to trust and who I want to let near me and so on and so forth.
Anyways, will go now, going to go to bed early tonight
Geplaatst: vr aug 29, 2008 1:09 pm
Friday, August 29, 2008
Marital Rape - the Hidden Pain
This is what I drew today using oil pastel...
This is how marital rape affects a woman, don't think that it doesn't cause you feelings of shame and dirtiness and feeling worthless any less then any other kind of rape. It hurts just as much and it also carries an added weight of the fact that you may love the person who has degraded you and you are confused as seeing as you have given yourself to your man before you are left wondering whether you are just making a big deal out of nothing and maybe you deserved to be treated like that. Marital rape hurts, any type of rape hurts,
and no one deserves it...
I have escaped even though I still love my abuser because we did have some good times together,
But I didn't deserve the pain he brought on me,
and neither do you,
And so can you...
Geplaatst: za aug 30, 2008 1:36 pm
Haar ervaring bezorgt me echt kippevel..
En word er razend van hoe haar ex-man haar heeft behandeld :mad:
Geplaatst: za aug 30, 2008 1:42 pm
Vreselijk Steffi. Je hebt gelijk.
Maar wij kennen mensen die in zo'n zelfde soort situatie gezeten hebben. Niet waar ? Gelukkig gaat het daar nu goed mee.
Het komt wel goed met deze vrouw, ze heeft nog een moeilijke weg te bewandelen, maar eens gaat de zon voor haar schijnen.
Dikke zoen voor jou Stef...
Geplaatst: za aug 30, 2008 10:07 pm
Saturday, August 30, 2008
"I have muslim collegues who wouldn't do that to their wives," the bloke opposite me says.
I get upset, I hate this feeling, this anger, bewilderment, sadness, almost a rage that wells up inside of me. How many times do you have to justify yourself to anyone and everyone around you. No one believes you and no one really cares and at the same time they all blame you for having stayed so long, they blame you for not looking after your husband well enough, you are blamed for leaving him, for going to the police in the first place, for trying to escape and for complaining.
You are blamed. You have to justify your reasons... you have to give good enough reasons to explain why the man who you thought you would spend the rest of your life with has done such and such to you. Because it doesn't seem believable to anyone else. Because it sounds crazy to the rest of the world. Because that's just the way this world works. The one who is wronged always has to explain themselves and those who harm others deny what they have done and put the blame on those they've harmed. There is no such thing as justice - it's a myth made up in an effort to give people confidence in their leaders so that they will support what their leaders do. Justice doesn't exist, There will be no justice for me, never has been and I'd be a fool to expect otherwise.
Have you ever worn the niqab? Have you ever been forced to cover your eyes with two layers of gause so that your husband won't get jealous and throw a fit and hit you and not allow you out of the house for who knows how long? Have you ever been forced to stand a particular way so that he won't think you are looking at his friends or trying to get their attention?
Have you ever been forced to walk behind your husband? Has he ever yelled at you "Left" or "Right" depending on the males walking the opposite direction? Did your husband ever hit you in public because you accidently went the wrong way - or has he ever grabbed your upper arm tightly and steered you through the shops while you tried not to cry out at the pain it was causing your shoulder?
If not, then don't even bother saying anything mate! I don't care what your collegues or anyone else says or does, or doesn't do... I don't know those people, I only know of my experience, and my husband is a muslim and uses his religion to justify his behaviour. I will not justify what I say any more. I've had it. Why do I fucking well have to live like that? Why the fucking hell can't I be able to live in peace? Why the fucking hell can't I get away from him and instead have him getting his friends to hunt me down? Why the fucking hell do I have to justify over and over and over again to absolutely everyone why I fucking well left, and why I don't want him seeing my kids and why I believe I'm telling the truth regarding how he treated me in spite of how unbelievable it might seem to them?
I'm so tired of it you know. I'm so tired. Sometimes I think if I hear another person saying something about how that just isn't something that muslims would do - although hey how many other men in the world are able to justify to themselves the idea of taking a second wife but because you are muslim hey, go ahead man! But oh no, to ask for help, to state what has happened, to tell the people who are supposed to be there to help you, is considered all lies because hey, anything to do with muslim males or islam is a taboo stance... and I am the wife, so how dare I speak up. Hey, maybe I look the racist or something - well, man, I am the one who learnt a good deal of Arabic and tried my best to fit in. I'm not the racist, they fucking well are! I was told that I needed to shape up to the Arab standard - and Aussie was like the worst thing ever! Fucking hell, how bad can it get before someone actually listens and tries to understand instead of just assuming that they are right because of politically correct stances that have been drilled into their heads from the word go. It's just not fair, nothing is fair, life is so fucking well crap and I'm so tired of having to fight every step of the way just to be able to live normally.
Sorry, my bad, I'm having a super big rant right now, but I need to get it out of my system. will probably delete it all tomorrow, but this is how I'm feeling right now! Ranting mood!
Got to go
Geplaatst: za aug 30, 2008 10:09 pm
Steffi schreef:Haar ervaring bezorgt me echt kippevel..
En word er razend van hoe haar ex-man haar heeft behandeld :mad:
Het had u óók kunnen overkomen....
Geplaatst: zo aug 31, 2008 5:55 pm
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Spoke with a lady last night who couldn't comprehend why I miss my husband. She hates her husband even though he never hit her and never emotionally abused her - it was because of her mother-in-law and the fact that her husband listens to his mother that she hates him. Meanwhile, I love and hate my husband. I miss him. I can't help that, at times I feel like I can't cope without him to tell me what to do... I know that sounds weak, but that is the way I feel. But then, when I wake up like this morning and I feel amazing - free, wonderful, safe, happy... and I realize that I've survived those hard moments when you feel like you can't do this, like you aren't strong enoungh, that he will win.
You realize that you do have strength - and that strength did not come from him, he is not the end all and be all, you do exist you know - and you are a strong woman! And I have to remember this when I miss him and feel vulnerable and feel like I can't make it you know.
I showed this lady a photo of my husband, and she couldn't understand what I see in him. Hey, I'm a loyal person, I see beauty whereever as long as I'm supposed to see it... it's all psychological - who cares if to most people he isn't that handsome - he was to me because he was my husband and I loved him for who he was. His smile, the way he laughed, how intelligent he was, when he'd come up behind me sometimes and hug me - wrapping his arms around my waist and making me feel wonderful. I was so starved for physical affection that when he'd give me some attention I almost went to heaven with how wonderful I felt at being hugged and cuddled. And at those times I'd think that it was worth all the pain to have someone cuddle you and tell you they loved you and that you were all they could think about... but that was the trap - that is the trap of domestic violence... the cycle. The honeymoon period, the tension build-up, the explosion, the denial/ forgiveness period and then all over again the honeymoon period and so on and so forth. And slowly but surely the honeymoon periods and the denial/ forgiveness periods become shorter and less loving, they become almost non-existant to the point where when he'd punch me he wouldn't even aknowledge that anything had happened and would just walk around as though nothing had happened and our honeymoon periods consisted of him just not hitting me and that was good enough because hey anything is better than that eh? And the only time he'd give me attention and show me love was either (a) when he was in a fantastic mood and I'd done something that'd made him even happier - which was really scary for me as I wondered how long it would last and when he'd explode next, or (b) when I was at the point of wanting to leave and he'd alternate between threatening behaviour and loving behaviour and telling me he couldn't have gone this far in life without the love and care and patience I'd shown him and to just give him another chance that I'd see everything would change and get better and blah blah blah, or (c) when I'd actually left and then he'd make my life a misery by telling me how much he loved me that I was the only woman for him and that he couldn't live without me and that he was a fool for having treated me so badly and he loved me and would make me the happiest woman alive... but when I'd make conditions in my coming back - oh no he'd become angry with me, I was ungrateful to him wasn't I that he'd let me back into his life that I'd been such a bad wife to have left him, oh no, I was asking too much of him - how could I expect that much of him? - that oh no, I wasn't trying to make this relationship work and instead apparently by my conditions on coming back I wanted the relationship to fail!
Oh god, this never ending cycle of pain and hurt and destruction! How glad I am that you have ended! And may you never appear in my life again!
It is natural to grieve - even over situations that were unhealthy and bad - simply because as human beings we are creatures of familiarity and routine and we don't like the insecurity caused by change.
Anyways, got to go, and get these kids their breakfasts!
Just one word for a particular someone,
Husband! Thank you for the experiences in life you have provided me, and thank you for giving me the opportunity to learn that you will never change and will continue to hurt me if I come back to you. I loved you and I still love you, and that's OK, but it isn't OK that you broke my heart over and over again, and that in your excuses you placed the blame on me even though you were the one who'd broken our relationship over and over and over again,
Farwell my love, and I hope that your life will go as well as I intend for my life to be,
Geplaatst: zo aug 31, 2008 5:58 pm
Sunday, August 31, 2008
I am CryingI am crying. Actually crying. Every time I look at the photo of us on our wedding day that I have on the desk here I start crying again. Not a soft cry - but the sort one makes when one has lost someone due to death... you know the wail - but I'm not wailing - no sound is coming out, just my mouth opens and air comes out but no sound and tears are falling down my cheeks and my heart feels like it is breaking.
I am grieving. It hurts so bad you know. So bad.
Every time I look at the photo I see him and am confronted with the horrible memories that feel like they are happening right now and then I go through this thing where I miss him so badly, I miss those times he laughed with me and treated me so nicely and I just want to disappear and not expierience this pain any more.
His hands, his god-damned hands! Him hitting me, slapping me, holding my wrists together so I couldn't get away, him holding my upper arms like vices, him punching me, his hands... hurting me and there is nothing I can do. Absolutely nothing. I am too small, I am too little, he is big and I can't move... and when I beg him to stop he hits me over and over again until I obey and be quiet and listen to him. I used to love his hands, big hands, the hands of a man. But I grew to fear those hands and what they could do. I grew to wish he'd die and I'd be free of the pain he'd bring on me when he'd come home at night, but there is nothing you can do. Nothing.
I hated the way he'd grab me and drag me into the bedroom and I tried to resist sometimes and be hit repeatedly for my resistance, and other times I'd just beg him to please give me some time to finish the cooking or to get son to sleep or whatever, sometimes I'd beg him just to be patient please ya habibi - I am really tired, I've been working all day and I didn't get any sleep last night because daughter was sick, please ya habibi, please let me just go to bed and sleep. But he'd either force me, or I'd eventually agree to it because it would be less painful if I just agreed than being forced - or sometimes he'd give in and wouldn't make me do it but rather would go off with his friends all night and be angry with me for weeks in punishment and wouldn't allow me anywhere near him, or would make my life a misery by talking about getting a second wife because hey this wife he already had was hopeless in bed.
The humiliation, the shame, the anger that I tried to repress day and day on end by cutting myself and biting my arms and not eating and by listening to those angry voices inside my head that told me that it was all my fault and I should try harder to make him happy and that he deserved better and he was right, I wasn't a good wife, look at me - I couldn't even cook as good as those arab women!
The dread as the time approached for him to come home, the absolute dread and fear and panic... Would he be angry today? Would he like the way I'd dressed up for him or would he be unhappy with it? Would he be happy with the maftoul today or would he yell at me and tell me that my maftoul is disgusting and that he felt like eating moulikhiyah today not maftoul - and he would be going out shortly so I'd better have it ready by then.
The endless trying so hard to become better and better, convincing myself that if I just try harder he'd be happy with me, that maybe I could if I became a better person and cooked and cleaned and performed better in the bedroom and was a better muslim and spoke more respectfully and did not talk in his presence except to answer his questions and to give him the feeling that he was the king of his house that maybe, just maybe he'd be happy and would smile at me and eat the food and not yell at me today. Not hit me today. Not slam me against the wall or slap the back of my head, or kick me or hold me down and force me. Maybe he'd be gentle with me today. Maybe just maybe he'd forget all the other women in the world and wouldn't ask me to find him a second wife and talk about how wonderful it would be to have four breasts to fondle instead of just two... Maybe he'd hug me and maybe just maybe everything would be ok.
And I'd blame myself, I was too ungrateful to him - after all he worked so hard every day to bring home money - and he was exposed to all those women wearing mini-skirts coming to buy milk and whatnot - so who could blame him for talking in the evening about their legs and breasts and how much those evil women want him so bad... It was my fault for feeling jealous - why should I feel that way when it was only natural for men to want women constantly so get over yourself woman! Blame, blame, blame, and it never seemed to end, all directed towards myself.
Our first kiss - my first real kiss that was consensual - it was gross and amazing at the same time, I couldn't forget the feeling for the week we were parted after that kiss. I was in heaven, I thought now I can have my own family and a man who loves me and whom I can care for. He laughed about our first kiss, about my inexperience, and also the first time he was with me he laughed about how shy I was. His little girl he called me, he said that I did not look much older than an eleven or twelve year old girl and that I behaved like a virgin although he spoke with disgust about how he would've had more enjoyment if I hadn't've been raped by my uncle as a child. He spoke of these things after he'd been with me and I'd go really quiet as I didn't want to talk about it. I was ashamed that I hadn't been the virgin he so much wanted when we married, and that I was damaged goods for him. He'd talk about it unashamedly, and would mention that I was too "loose" because of my lack of virginity and I'd just turn my face away from him and feel like crying but would say nothing... this went on for along time after the first time - up until I became pregnant with daughter (seven or so months after our marriage) and he seemed obsessed with this. It hurt so much as I felt like the fact that I'd been raped by my uncle didn't upset him because he loved me - but rather because he'd wanted a virgin girl to sleep with rather than a girl who'd been interferred with.
One time I tried to escape from him, he was angry and I'd left daughter in the lounge room with him because I thought he was going to kill me - I was pregnant with son and fortunately managed to get into the bedroom before him and shut the door. He was trying to force the door open and I was pushing the handle up so he couldn't open the door with my shoulder. He'd punched me in the tummy although I feel it wasn't on purpose as he loves his kids, I think he was just trying to punish me you know because I'd been disrespectful to him I think. So, I was in the bedroom and he was in the other room trying to force the door open, pounding on the door for me to open it, threatening me, and then it went quiet, I thought maybe he was playing tricks on me, so I stayed in place and a minute or so later he tried the door again and shouted at me. Over and over again, he yelled at me that the most patient wins, and then I heard the front door slam and thought maybe he'd gone so I waited a while and then opened the door slowly and he came slamming into me from seemingly out of nowhere. He slammed his hands against my chest so I fell backwards and then he hit me over and over again and kicked me up the backside. I was so scared you know - I didn't know what he'd do to me he was so angry - when he gets angry his face goes really red and then white and he looks so calm but in reality he is really angry and can punch and hit and kick over and over and over again while he looks so calm and collected like someone who knows exactly what he is doing. He asked me who was the man of the house, who was the man? I should talk to him like he is the man of the house not like a man speaks to a man but like the wife speaks to her husband... I was causing our daughter to grow up to marry and divorce - that she'd become disrespectful to her husband like me and then we'd have to look after her when her husband divorced her and it'd be all my fault blah blah blah...
He eventually calmed down. I started having severe brackston hicks but by midnight they were gone. I was so stressed, I wanted to go to the hospital to have the baby checked as i was worried that some of the hits that had come on my stomache must've injured my son, but he wouldn't hear of my going there - that I was worrying for nothing, that the baby would be fine.
The next day he called his boss to ask him to get his wife to come and spend some time with me as I was "sick", but I pretended I wasn't there when she knocked and when my husband called my mobile demanding to know where I'd been - what I'd been doing - I told him that I was really tired and had had more contractions so had laid down and fell asleep and hadn't heard any knocking. I don't think he believed me, but he came home early that day and treated me nicely by coming home with charcol chicken and tabouli and chips and speaking so nicely to me calling me his "sanfoori" that he loved me, that I needed to stop stressing so much or else the baby could be born early.
Sometimes he hit me when I was getting food for daughter, on occassion his hits directed at me hit her, his pushing me while she clung onto my dress would make her go flying as well. He sometimes lost his temper with her - especially regarding issues relating to the deen when she wouldn't say Fatiha with him or wouldn't sing the mujahideen nasheed with him, or would eat with her left hand he'd slap her face or arms or would push her and yell at her and she'd come crying to me saying, "Mama, baba hit me!" and I was at loss what to do. What to do? If I comforted her he got mad at me and sometimes hit her again & me as well, but if I told her to go tell her father she didn't like what he was doing he'd tell me I was disrespecting him - that I should've told her to obey her baba. I did tell her to listen to him - but I didn't think it was ok to slap a toddler on the face especially not so hard as to leave red fingerprints across her cheeks. And regardless of what he'd said - I was not going to say to her that it was ok for him to do that - it was not ok and I wasn't going to justify his behaviour for him or remove the responsibility for him.
His beard was lovely to snuggle into, and have those hairs of his beard tickle my cheek and neck. I loved it when he'd sing the arabic love songs to me, and when he'd recite arabic love poems to me. I loved all those things. What happened to those beautiful moments? What happened to those love songs he'd sing to me and those times he'd put his hand through my hair and tell me I was like a maha (deer) and was his water (he said water because he'd said that you can't survive without water)...? What happened? Why did I have to go and ruin it all by letting him see the imperfect girl he'd married. The girl who'd accidently laugh in public and have him grab my shoulder with his hand and me wince with pain but being quiet because of his anger while he snarls at me not to make any noise because the men can hear me. The girl who couldn't get all the toys off of the floor before he got home from work because I was trying to cook dinner and look after a toddler at the same time and he'd come in and get angry because of this. The girl who couldn't read qu'ran the way he wanted, who didn't pray every single prayer there ever was because hey she was human and didn't have the capability to do so. The girl who never could make him happy.
Oh god, I'm crying again.
I would cry because I didn't want to break his heart because I knew that one day I'd have to leave him as I just couldn't imagine myself in his country with no way to get out except through him. I couldn't imagine myself having to live with the threat of Israel right next door while he would fight with hamas... I couldn't bear the thought - and I grieved for him - how it would hurt him to lose me I know, who would care for him as much as I did? How would he find his socks in the mornings? How would he survive the harsh world out there where the women are all over him and he might commit fashiha and condemn his soul to hell forever? And what if he actually committed suicide like he'd threatened to do so on numerous occassions should I leave? How could I live with myself if he did something like that?
I'd wonder how I could escape... I tried to come up with a plan and wondered how I'd gather the resolve to stay away from him while I didn't think I could cope on my own with my two kids...
But here I am, and I have survived and I hope will continue to do so.
It hurts you know - but that is what grief is, it hurts and while you hurt you are able to get through it and heal and grow from the experiences.
Anyways, will go to bed now, am tired enough to sleep,
ttfn - Ta ta for now,
Geplaatst: zo sep 07, 2008 12:37 pm
Nog geen nieuwe Post van haar ?
WIl echt graag weten hoe het nu met haar gaat..
Geplaatst: zo sep 07, 2008 12:56 pm
Ze heeft een paar dagen niet geschreven Steffi. Maar ik ben onmiddelijk na jouw post gaan kijken.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Definition of AbuseIt Could Happen to Anyone -
'As one woman said, "If you are afraid, then whether it is a tickle or a smack, it's abusive. If you are afraid that you are going to be hurt, that's abuse" (Klein et al.,1997, p.55).'
That is one definition of abuse - more specifically in referrence to domestic violence.
How often is one afraid in an abusive relationship? That fear that overwhelms every instance of contact between the abuser and the one who is being abused? Fear, being afraid, trying desperately to make yourself better this time in order to dispel the inevitable anger that will be faced some time in the future. Fear because it is so uncertain and there is no consistency in the abuser's behaviour.
Fear... And I still live with fear. I still modify my behaviour due to fear of him, due to being afraid of what he might do if I do whatever... Fear when walking down the street - not of a stranger attacking me, no, but rather, fear of my husband - the one who was supposed to stand beside me and be the one I grow old with in endearment.
It is a question I will need to answer for myself: How do you get through the fear of a person to standing on your own two feet and having the confidence in yourself that you were born as a beautiful creature and you are strong in and of yourself?
When I find my answer I will write it for you, but until then - this journey has only just begun!
Setting the pace...
I sat down last night, wrote up my mission statement - set out clearly for myself what I want to do and be in my life & how I want my life to be... I wrote up a plan for achieving those things that are really important to me in life and set up a routine for obtaining those things. I worked out a budget and worked out what I need to do at the moment to create a little order in our house (read "room").
I feel so much lighter after having done that. I didn't spend too much time on it, and it is really quite a simple plan. And I think the kids feel it too - you know, the sense of "mum's feeling more stable in life so we do too" kind of thing.
Took darling children to the park today, oh and yeah I got up at 5am this morning and just studied until 6:30am and then I started the day by showering and getting the kids up and bathing them and dressing them and serving breaky.
Didn't feel alone today - and I think that aloneness is just a sense of insecurity of not having that same old familiar enviroment where I know how I'm supposed to act according to the standards of that type of relationship - there is a sense of security in living like that as you just know that you are supposed to try to make him happy and that he may or may not be happy and you just have to try to survive those bad moments and get through. The unknown is really scary - but I think that because I set down on paper and in my mind what it is that I'm aiming for in life (hopefully) - like keeping my home as our sanctuary that is peaceful and violence-free - and respecting my children's rights and my own rights... like making good friends and being a good friend... like learning those things that I need to learn when it is needed that I learn them - taking the initiative to get through this depression and actually live the life that is meaningful to myself and the world around me... these things give me the strength to say, "You are living a life worthwhile living, and no one else can tell you that what you want in life is wrong as this is your life not anyone elses."
He does not own me. I am my own self. And if I want a home that is peaceful and sacred without violence and with people respecting each other - then that is what I will do my utmost to create... I will learn how to create that home that I desire, a place of safety for my children and myself, and him and his friends saying that I should give him another chance, that he really loves me and cares for me, that I'm making a big deal out of nothing are all just lies to destroy this valid dream I have to creating an atmosphere that every home really needs to have in order to recharge for whatever life throws at you tomorrow.
Does that make sense?
Anyways, got to go, son is crying,
will talk more tomorrow,
Geplaatst: vr sep 26, 2008 9:02 pm
niks meer; ?
Geplaatst: za sep 27, 2008 1:14 am
Al 14 dagen niet meer Steffi. Ik maak me zorgen. Ik heb haar een bericht gestuurd, maar niks. Ik zie haar ook niet meer op FFI internationaal. Als er maar niks gebeurd is.
Geplaatst: za sep 27, 2008 8:25 pm
ooh nee ..
Nu maak ik me ook zorgen ..
Pff .. Khoo pdat we snel iets van haar horen..
Geplaatst: di sep 30, 2008 11:43 am
ik zal een vriendin van mij vragen die in Australië woont of zij iets gelezen heeft over haar.
Geplaatst: di sep 30, 2008 5:44 pm
Ze gebruikt niet haar echte naam Scarlatti.
Het enige wat je vriendin misschien kan doen is kranten artikelen doorspitten, en kijken of een jonge moeder van 2 kinderen gemolesteerd is.
Geplaatst: di sep 30, 2008 6:31 pm
Dat begreep ik wel Ariel, heb me speciaal aangemeld op dat forum om op haar blog een mailtje te kunnen sturen om te vragen waar ze bleef aangezien ze 'tot morgen' zei en dat is nu al ruim 23 dagen geleden en mijn vriendin heb ik idd gevraagd naar een dergelijk bericht uit te kijken!
Geplaatst: wo okt 29, 2008 7:54 pm
Is er ondertussen wat van haar bekend?
Geplaatst: wo okt 29, 2008 11:11 pm
Nee, nog niets, ze heeft ook niet op mijn bericht gereageerd.
Ik heb haar ook niet meer op FFI internationaal gezien, ik heb haar forum naam en haar eigen naam gegoogled maar niks.
7 september was de laatste dag dat we iets van haar gezien hebben.
Ik maak me ook ongerust.