Two days until October, and you know what that means! No, no… well… yes, Halloween; but that’s not what I’m here to talk about this evening. It was brought to my attention today that here in America, October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. One of the other blogs I follow (When I Thought I was Fat) posted about how she will continue writing about DV and she is working on a new project for October to raise awareness.
It got me thinking. I don’t know if I have the will to write about DV all through the month of October. I don’t even know if, as the above mentioned blogger – Stephanie – put it, my readers/family & friends would roll their eyes if I once more bring up the past.
Like Stephanie, I sometimes have a hard time not talking about it. I’ve made a concerted effort not to dwell on such things for awhile now… Now that I feel I have come full circle in my coping process. That is, now that I have worked through the majority of my shit and have control of my feelings once again. My husband doesn’t particularly like when I write fiction based on domestic violence, because it can get dark and I think it worries him about my emotional state of being when I focus too much on those themes. So I only rarely write parts to those stories now, mainly because I don’t want to have unfinished stories out there.
The thing is about raising the awareness on the topic is, from where I stand it’s hard to believe that many people may not be aware of the prevalence of domestic violence/dating violence/sexual assault etc in our society. It’s hard for me to believe that there are people that haven’t witnessed it or lived it first hand at some point. Just like the time I had a friend tell me she had “never had a man talk to [her] like that” and the concept that she had never remotely experienced what I had dumbfounded me.
Yet… I suppose when I really think about it, most of us stay silent or downplay our own experiences. Maybe it’s not such a surprise if I think about it along those lines. I didn’t tell anyone really for a good 16 years after my first abusive relationship with Wyatt. I also didn’t really explain the physical nature of what happened with David in his truck or the fear he instilled in me for a good handful of years at least.
I guess I have a lot of years worth of talking to do. I guess when a victim (God, I hate using that word in relation to myself…) stays silent for so long and finally breaks that silence… Well, yeah… It makes sense we’d want to talk about it often. As our bravery grows in that respect, the more we realize that we need to get our words out there. We need to put a name on it and pull the mask away… We feel the need to reach out and help another human being that may have gone through or be going through similar things that we did. We start to feel that if we can add our voice to the roar so that society can become better as a whole from becoming aware of our collective experiences OR if our lone voice can find it’s way to one other person that really needs to hear it, one person that really needs our support or encouragement, then overcoming our own fear and obstacles to do with breaking our silence (and possibly annoying our friends and family eventually) is all worth the trouble.
My goodness, what a run on sentence… Haha, but it’s a late night and I’m not going to edit this. We’ll have to make do. I think I made the point I was trying to make at least, LOL.
I don’t know what I am going to do. I don’t know if I’m going to just, maybe, re-share some older posts to do with my own DV experiences or possibly write some new material on old DV topics I’ve already covered multiple times… But rest assured I’ll be circling back to this topic at least a few times in the next month. Because that’s what a blog like mine and I do.