Morgan Moone
Content Warning: This article contains references and themes of domestic violence and abuse.
By Dovie Yoana King
Imagine an existence where your spouse controls your safety and freedom. If you try to leave, he will retaliate against you in the most destructive of ways. You fear for your life and that of your young child.
Imagine feeling intensely ashamed of yourself. You are an award winning public interest lawyer and Ivy-league graduate who once had a healthy self-esteem and thriving career. Over the years, however, you have grown to believe you are defective, worthless and deserving of a miserable existence. This message is repeatedly drilled into your head by your spouse and reinforced with actual or threatened violence. As such, your self-concept is distorted. You become increasingly isolated from your friends, family and colleagues as you sink into depression.
Imagine constantly walking on eggshells. Explosive rage fills your home and shatters your sense of normalcy at the drop of a hat. To survive this, your brain is rewired to absorb the shock of repeated abuse. You live in perpetual survival mode. Your mind is on overdrive and thrusts you into fight-or-flight mode when it perceives danger. Adrenaline surges into your bloodstream and your muscles tense up. Your airway constricts and it is difficult to breathe. Your heart pounds, causing deep chest pain. You are flustered and overloaded with racing thoughts too.
Trying to regulate your body sensations is an impossible task. It is mentally, physically and spiritually exhausting.
Imagine your cognitive function is impaired. This affects your memory, thinking, concentration, and sense of intelligence. You are left feeling confused and second-guessing your perception of reality. You wonder, “Did he really kick-down the bedroom door?” Though this is an accurate portrayal of what happened the night before, you have self-doubt compounded by the fact that your spouse continuously gaslights you. He denies that he kicked down the door and, as a final straw, turns it around on you. You accept his truth over yours because you have lost all sense of personal agency. The world has been turned upside down. Your personhood withers into nothingness. Marriage marks the death of you.
Now imagine being repeatedly raped and forced to pretend you are voluntarily offering your body to your spouse. If you do not submit to him, you are afraid he will burst into an uncontrollable rage and awaken your sleeping child in the adjacent bedroom. You have a fierce maternal instinct to protect your child so you surrender yourself to your abuser time and time again. During sex, however, you feel like a human waste receptacle. You disconnect your mind from your body to endure the act. When he is finished, you have major anxiety for weeks afterward at the thought that you might be pregnant. Another child would further enslave you to the marriage and keep you in a state of chattel. As it turns out, you experience two miscarriages, one of them on Mother’s Day. While at the hospital, the attending physician relays her deepest sympathies, but you are numb. Lacking the emotional capacity to mourn the loss, you suppress the tragedy into a corner of your memory. Grief is temporarily replaced with a sense of relief and freedom.
Imagine your body stores the trauma. You reject physical touch and struggle to achieve emotional and physical intimacy for years to come. You are hypervigilant, having lost all sense of safety at the hands of your spouse.
Imagine that you have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, though the condition goes undetected during the marriage. Your PTSD was not caused on the battlefield, but at home. No help is available for quite some time so you struggle alone in silence bewildered by what is happening to you. You have no idea you have PTSD because you erroneously believe it affects only combat veterans. It’s not until you turn to a 24-hour abuse hotline that you muster the courage to break the cycle. You call the police, obtain a restraining order, file for divorce and go to a domestic violence center, all in rapid succession. For once you receive the counseling you desperately need. This is a major turning point in your healing.
Imagine your child also has PTSD. It is with deep sadness that you realize your mother-child relationship is predicated upon a shared experience of trauma. It’s incumbent upon you to fight for your child’s safety from your mutual abuser, but it will take years of custody litigation and a sheer will to survive to emerge victorious in that battle.
Abusive parents are more likely than non-abusive parents to aggressively fight for custody in family court, choosing to move the battle for power and control from the home to the courtroom. Your abuser is no exception. He has a lot at stake- his public reputation as a lawyer, political ambitions within the Democratic Party, thousands of dollars in client retainers, etc. You are eventually awarded sole legal and physical custody of the child after a hard-fought legal battle. You are now free to move thousands of miles away to reconstruct your life. But emancipation comes at a price. You pay in excess of $100,000 in legal fees to buy your freedom. Oh, but that is only the beginning! The situation leaves you facing economic insecurity and re-traumatization. Together you and your child embark on a path to an unknown future. As you pack your bags for the journey ahead, you can’t help but feel like refugees fleeing persecution. You’ve reached a bittersweet fork in the road. Everything you’ve known, such as family, friends, and your career, is over. You have no choice but to start anew.
Imagine that you have difficulty coping with the severeness of your disability. You must reckon with PTSD before you fully moving forward. Indeed, PTSD has become an unwanted cohabitant in your life and, despite your best efforts to expel it, PTSD remains a constant companion. Thus, you adjust your life accordingly. You begin to dial back on stressful and anxiety-provoking activities, such as going out in public, walking alone, dating, shopping, and exercising at a gym. Simultaneously, you overschedule yourself with other activities, such as working and volunteering, to avoid spending any free time with PTSD.
Of course, this means you are always in a tug of war by avoiding certain situations while jumping into the deep end with others. You reach your breaking point.
Imagine, in effect, spending several years a slave to the abuse in its aftermath despite herculean efforts to overcome PTSD. You desperately want to reclaim your life. Yet, you’ve developed a serious condition that significantly limits your life activities and requires intensive medical care. It is a reminder of a decade-long reign of terror in your marriage. Regardless, you are committed to your recovery because the alternative is to continue living as an empty shell of a person who is numb and devoid of feeling. This prospect is unfathomable.
Imagine taking the step to undergo PTSD treatment at a renowned psychiatric institution, the same one featured in the Angelina Jolie and Winona Ryder film, Girl, Interrupted. Your treatment includes exposure therapy, dialectical behavioral therapy, and cognitive behavioral therapy accompanied by a regimen of prescription medications. You attend individual and group sessions and support groups with other women who have suffered trauma, like first responders and survivors of sexual violence and childhood abuse. Additionally, you participate in parenting groups at a domestic violence agency to gain the skills to support your child through trauma. In time, and with much personal effort, things begin to turn around. You feel your veins pumping life into you rather than pure adrenaline to survive. You experience fleeting moments of happiness. You begin to recognize traces of the person you were prior to the abuse. You discover a vibrant, independent woman who once had much to live for.
Imagine that post-marriage life brings with it many wondrous rewards. You land a coveted job at Harvard Law School, run for local office and win, and start a charitable organization to educate the public about the dangers of interpersonal violence. You are appointed to your town’s Human Rights Commission and receive high honors from the State Bar for your pro bono legal services on behalf of immigrant women at a restraining order legal clinic. You are invited to be the keynote speaker at a gala event, breaking your silence to friends, family, and colleagues in the legal profession. The stigma of being a “victim” is gradually fading. As you rebuild your life, you achieve the financial means to buy your dream home. You travel at every opportunity as well, especially to your favorite European destinations- London, Amsterdam, Paris, Madrid- meeting new friends and lovers along the way. You feel free to be vulnerable again. Free to trust again. The protective walls around you begin to crumble.
Imagine that you have come full circle. You are finally in a place where you can take a deep breath, relax and reflect upon your difficult journey with some emotional distance. You’ve come out on the other side having overcome the unimaginable. As you relish the moment, you are eager to invite fellow survivors to join you in this peaceful place. It is your emancipation. You are finally free.
Author’s Note: Domestic violence is a serious problem that affects thousands of individuals each year. Victims of domestic violence often suffer from a host of issues, such as legal, housing, economic, and food insecurity. Additionally, they present higher rates of mental health difficulties than non-victims, including anxiety, depression, and PTSD. Symptoms of PTSD may linger indefinitely if left unchecked and can be as severe for women and children as for combat veterans; however, it does not have to be a life sentence. When violence hits close to home, it is important to know that help is available. To connect to services in your area, contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 800-799- SAFE (7233).
