domestic abuse - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
"Claudia, tension, abuse, honeymoon, tension, abuse, honeymoon, tension... and so it goes on. If the abuse isn't physical it is often missed as domestic abuse by the victim, but it does physical harm either way. Long term side effects include a type of PTSD, immune system disregulation and mental health issues. Honey, you aren't crazy, you're a victim of long term domestic abuse and your symptoms all stem from suffering raised cortisol levels for so long. Be proud that you survived and ended the cycle... even if the isolation continued... that's on him... that's on them... you should be nothing but proud."
From the punch to the erosion of self esteem over time, domestic abuse can either come fast or act as a dimmer switch. I got out of my situation. It almost killed me. I'm an emotionally dependant sort, never been on my own before. But once you have kids they are your priority. They have to be. You get out and make a new life, a better one, and become their role model. If you wouldn't want your kids to put up with the same... neither can you... otherwise they most likely will... because people often subconsciously seek what they grew up with even if it's harmful.
When the prefrontal cortex fails to develop self control, empathy and creative perspective taking, in times of stress, domestic abuse in all its sick forms rises to the detriment of all. We are born for love, and the financial positions of many families have prohibited such care for generations. The evidence of this we see in hospitals, courtrooms and educational outcomes.
Domestic abuse is ever linked to poverty, for stress brings out the "Hulk smash" version of humanity. Thus the money-nexus breaks us from the bottom up in every conceivable way.
There were nights I lay in my bed listening to the sound of fighting. My mother would shout, my father would begin laying into her and the screaming would start. She cried, he seethed, and I pushed my face into the long toy snake my three year old body was wrapped around. I would think to myself how when mother left I would leave with her, flee the violence. Then one day she did leave... and I remained right where I was with just a toy to comfort me.
There was nothing physical about the abuse, but she was shattered nonetheless. Every facet of her personality was was denigrated and shunned. She was less than nothing, not even as loved as an object to be used. Every look that came her way was laced with contempt, annoyance that she should take up house-room and eat. Every bite she was thrown was measured, thin and mean as the nourishment was.