<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381</id><updated>2011-11-18T23:29:25.653-05:00</updated><category term='future'/><category term='healing'/><category term='regret'/><category term='domestic violence'/><category term='cry'/><category term='forwad'/><category term='change'/><category term='growth'/><category term='wounds'/><category term='ego'/><category term='faith'/><category term='rejection'/><category term='explosion'/><category term='sorrow'/><category term='freedom'/><category term='life'/><category term='bitterness'/><category term='tantrum'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='tears'/><category term='pain'/><category term='power'/><category term='breast cancer'/><category term='god'/><category term='anger'/><category term='sorry'/><category term='frustration'/><category term='survivor'/><category term='fool'/><category term='madness'/><category term='heartache'/><category term='confusion'/><category term='thinking'/><title type='text'>portrait of abuse</title><subtitle type='html'>a survivor's story....</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-3373900770201695054</id><published>2011-10-23T14:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-23T21:53:02.696-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='power'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breast cancer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='survivor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='freedom'/><title type='text'>catalyst</title><content type='html'>As October comes to a close, I want to share the close tie my breast cancer and freedom from my relationship have. It was 6 years ago this past March that I was diagnosed. It was detected very early and I already had made my decision as to how to proceed. April was the mastectomy and that August was some reconstruction. Not only had my physical body been altered, but so had my state of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always believed (and still do!) that everything happens for a reason, even if we never have a clue, so I was sure that having cancer was not just a random event in my life. I initially thought that it would change my husband; he would appreciate me enough to finally change those behaviors that were so damaging to us all, and especially him. I had it all played out in my mind, right down to the “happily ever after”. Boy, was I surprised when I realized that it was to change me and that my “happily ever after” ending would come, but not in any way, shape or form as I had imagined it would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I value life and the days we are given. Cancer made it very clear to me that EVERY day is a gift, every healthy day an even bigger one. When all my treatments were completed and the dust settled, I knew that I could not live my life any longer the way it was, that violence and survival were no longer options. I wanted to enjoy whatever time I was given and LIVE. I wanted to feel again, and I did not want to be hurt or killed at the hand of someone I was married to. I made it clear to him that violence was no longer a tolerable option, and as long as there wasn’t any, I was content to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me 2 years after that and several violent episodes, including one right after my mastectomy, to leave and leave for good. It was harder living with him than it was having breast cancer. Every time I say or write that, I cannot help but shake my head. My reformed thinking head that is! I say this with entire peace and sanity, I am so glad I had breast cancer! It forever changed my body, my mind and most of all my life. As I write this, I can say that so far the positive changes outweigh the negative ones. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We fear change, especially the life altering kind of change. But sometimes change is overdo, and needs a kick start. Change can come as a result of the strangest things, and we can never really know what will be a catalyst……&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-3373900770201695054?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/3373900770201695054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2011/10/catalyst.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/3373900770201695054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/3373900770201695054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2011/10/catalyst.html' title='catalyst'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-2642230325641831330</id><published>2011-10-19T22:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T22:43:51.774-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='survivor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forwad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growth'/><title type='text'>just a season away........</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;october is a great month for me, my birthday, breast cancer awareness month AND domestic violence awareness month.  since my birthday has come and gone, i am excited to say that a lot of the pain of my old life has gone as well.  the time for action has arrived.  it's time to take my experiences, my skills, my dreams and my goals, roll them up into a game plan and get on with it!  i have always believed that what i have gone through can be used to help others who are living with violence.  i have been given much, and must now give much back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i no longer consider myself a survivor, i am living life.  i wake up in the morning knowing that the day belongs to me and i can handle whatever comes my way.  i am blessed beyond words.  i no longer have that wrenching pain, and i no longer cry for what wasn't.  my life is what it is, and it is good.  i have family and friends whom i love dearly and who love and support me.  i have my health, shelter, food, clothing and a job.  i have clarity in knowing what is right for me, and what i will never settle for again.  i have faith in god who i know beyond a shadow of a doubt, protected me all those years and released me when it was time.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;the anger is gone as well.  anger at myself for staying as long as i did and for subjecting my children to things i wish they never seen or heard.  anger at him for not changing and for moving on with someone else.  in it's place is peace.  probably for the first time ever in my life i can say i am truly happy.  yes, i have the day to day struggles, fears and worries that everyone has, but compared to what i have lived with in the past, this is so much easier.  i am so proud of myself for making it to this point, it's almost 4 years already.  i don't look back anymore in sadness, i just look back to remeber where i've come from so that i don't retrace those paths ever again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;now i want to reach out to those who hurt, who feel that they can never have a new life. those who live daily in fear, with a knot in their gut wondering is an explosion coming today.  i want them to know that it isn't easy, but a new life is definitely attainable.  there is help out there.  you are not alone.  it is scary to reach out for help, scary to change your life, scary to try and figure out what to do next....functioning in a dysfunctional relationship becomes what we know.  living in fear of violence is much harder than living with the fear of the unknown.......you just need to take that first step.  before you know it your running in a new direction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;i love october, many good things happen in this month.  i love the fall and it's smells.  the earth prepares for winter sleep and springs new birth.  as the leaves fall and die, i am reminded that old lives can die too and that new ones are just a season away.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-2642230325641831330?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/2642230325641831330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2011/10/just-season-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/2642230325641831330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/2642230325641831330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2011/10/just-season-away.html' title='just a season away........'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-6388349610933444604</id><published>2009-05-03T22:17:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T07:53:07.517-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='forwad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><title type='text'>apologies.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;i haven't written much in april and for those of you who follow this blog i want to say i am sorry. i started portrait of abuse to reach out to and for those who are hurting as a result of domestic violence.  it is my hope in sharing my life, i will be able to encourage others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am no longer living with my abuser, but that does not mean my pain or my struggles came to an immediate end.  but i have to confess, i had expected them to.  i am not sure why, but i felt that i should have been over my life with him as soon as we no longer lived under the same roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at times the emotional pain would be excruciating and i thought i wanted to crawl in a deep, dark hole and die.  what emotional pain you ask? oddly enough, the "pain" of not being with him!  crazy i know!  my head is able to comprehend every character trait he possesses that is reason enough to not be with him, not counting his alcoholism nor his abuse. but what the hell is wrong with my heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not like we even had a good relationship in between all of the crap! we didn't share anything, not even a bed for 6 years.  he wanted us to be quiet, leave him alone but make him feel loved. he wanted his tv, computer and naps. he couldn't help around the house, but could go to his jujitsu classes and wrestle with men for hours!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there were days i would beg God to take the pain away, or fix the problems of him and our marriage so we could get back together and live happily ever after! and i hung on. and i stayed angry. and i harbored jealousy.  and i fed my dysfunction. and i played the martyr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was with someone. He broke our marriage bond. He hurt our family. He, He, He. i was still giving him the power over my life and my emotions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;until friday.  I finally did the thing I was dreading the most.  I called Ocean/Monmouth Legal Services to set up an appointment with one of the attorneys to begin divorce proceedings! and all of a sudden I felt the strangest sensation.  I felt happy.  I felt hopeful. I was excited for what My future will bring without any ties, legal or otherwise to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the way I felt was different than the other times I thought I had finally gotten "over" him.  it was like something inside of Me finally SNAPPED! I reached the point of letting go. I finally get it! what the hell does he have that I could possibly want or miss.  i wouldn't pick someone like him to date ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was as easy as that.  I decided to finally give it ALL over to God and trust Him for whatever He has in store for My life.  from here on in it can only get better and better.  in letting go of the life I so wanted, I have freed myself to accept the life that is waiting for Me.  and that life can and will exceed any expectations I could possibly have.  for Me, the key is to allow God to bring Me to it and through it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so does this mean I will never again feel pain, loss, or have thoughts of him.  absolutely not! but it does mean that I will no longer be lost in them or controlled by them.  the healing process will continue.  and so will I.  it is so true that unless you allow one door to close, the next will not open.  I am so ready to see what is waiting for Me, hand on the knob, here I go............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-6388349610933444604?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/6388349610933444604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/05/apologies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/6388349610933444604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/6388349610933444604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/05/apologies.html' title='apologies.....'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-2499783480585944298</id><published>2009-04-22T20:41:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:48:54.225-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wounds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rejection'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ego'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fool'/><title type='text'>rejected</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"Spend time with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;she begs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;every shred &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;of self-respect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  gone,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;grovels at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;his feet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;he calls &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;the shots&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;and makes her stay &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;there on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;her knees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;a little more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;while his&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;ego swells&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;and he&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;decides that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;today she is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;not worthy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;of his sacred&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  conversation&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;so he walks &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;laughing inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;“What a fool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  she is.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;so she crawls&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;her retreat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;to the bedroom &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  sanctuary&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;to lick her&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  wounds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;and pretend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;she doesn’t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;  care.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-2499783480585944298?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/2499783480585944298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/rejected.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/2499783480585944298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/2499783480585944298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/rejected.html' title='rejected'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-3790358946306953364</id><published>2009-04-22T20:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T20:39:50.438-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tantrum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='madness'/><title type='text'>this tantrum again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;you seethe trouble like sweat&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;suck me in until&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I am screaming hurt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;see you erupt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;messup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;smash and throw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;it out of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;I face the madness&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;shake it away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;swear and cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;never again…..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-3790358946306953364?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/3790358946306953364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-tantrum-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/3790358946306953364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/3790358946306953364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-tantrum-again.html' title='this tantrum again'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-3059031115648662125</id><published>2009-04-16T22:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T23:18:45.179-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='god'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tears'/><title type='text'>april 16, 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;dear god&lt;br /&gt;why is it no matter what i do, what i think, i still come back around to crying over him? what is it about my character that causes me to hold on? i ache to understand why. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my brain understands the truth about him, about what we didn't have together, what time was wasted thinking life with him would ever be different.  but my heart, now that's another battle. my heart cries to hold him again, to taste his kiss, to hold his hand, to hear his truck pull up in the driveway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mind remembers the destruction, the heartache, the tears. my heart remembers the destruction of our marriage, the heartache i feel knowing he is with another woman, the tears that flow endlessly. or so it seems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am afraid that i will never be able to let go.  i ask you over and over again to help me forget, to help me to heal, but i know that all things come in your time, not mine.  i don't want to be jealous of Her, she didn't take him away from me, i disposed of him by way of restraining order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lord, i know that he and i should have never been.  i wanted him, begged you for him. and i got him.  i take full responsibility for the repercussions of my actions. i know that you are not punishing me, but hey, can we at least discuss the "i never give you more than you can handle" thing...i must boldly and loudly protest, i think you have crossed my line of too much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if i am honest with you, he held a higher place in my life sometimes than you did.  but you already knew that.  life revolved around him, now it revolves around you helping me forget him! well, hey god, i am trying! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and while we're having this little heart to heart, i have to tell you that menopause, it sucks!  i do believe that to a large degree the emotional havoc of this womanly state causes me to cry more, hurt more, be crazy in the head and heart more than i would be if i still had my estrogen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but seriously god, i really need your help in letting go. forgiving him and forgiving myself.  when all is said and done, i know you want the best for me and for my life.  i am thankful that you protect me from myself and from my own weaknesses.  i know that one day i will understand what you were doing through this period of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and if not for the past 22 years, i would not be writing this blog right now.  and who knows, maybe my pain, my experiences, my journey, my doubts, my fears, my tears...will be used to touch the life of someone who is just like me.  and that makes it all worth it.  so i guess god, i wouldn't have it any other way except yours........thank you for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-3059031115648662125?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/3059031115648662125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-16-2009.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/3059031115648662125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/3059031115648662125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/april-16-2009.html' title='april 16, 2009'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-880731925687712474</id><published>2009-04-10T21:00:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T21:59:01.500-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='explosion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>march 3, 1998</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;the sound of silence fills the house as you sleep your sleep of escape. i am left alone with my screaming thoughts as they pierce the peace i so desperately seek. it eludes me now as the fear overtakes it and i find no solace in the quiet of being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;tidal waves of emotions crash upon my rocky soul; guilt, pain, shame, anger, disgust and hate, all tangled together until i no longer can separate them into distinct entities. no longer do they battle for dominance, they have danced this dance all to often. it is easier to meld into one twisted web that rules my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can feel the numbness cover me like a security blanket, protecting the frailty i carry within. i keep it in a secret place locked away where "I" still exist.  it can easily be destroyed if the facade were to drop, even for an instant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you only knew how effortlessly you could penetrate the barricade that weakens and crumbles each time i am struck with the blare of rage from your eyes, the daggers from your mouth and the atomic destruction your hands facilitate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nothing is sacred, nothing spared from the war that rages in you, through you, spilled out from you.  i look for cover and find safety any place you are not. i must swallow my pride and cower at your feet begging mercy and leniency to end the rage for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i replay the scene over and over again to find where i went off course, where i disobeyed the order given, thereby setting off the short fuse that always seems to smolder. just waiting for a few drops of fuel to set it off. any trickle of humanness that flows from me is the combustible tonic that sparks the explosion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no place is safe from you. no situation exempt. all that matters is the excuse for the tirade, always the fault of someone else.  i pray to God to strike you dead, to make you suffer as you have caused our suffering, sweet justice for a lifetime of ugly pain you've dispensed on your children and me.  but that would be wrong. justice is not for me dictate or to demand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one day you will look for the comfort that i give and it will not be found. your self-destruction will have mushroomed out one time to many.  a chill runs through my soul as i live for, yet dread that day. the day we are no longer together........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-880731925687712474?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/880731925687712474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/march-3-1998.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/880731925687712474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/880731925687712474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/march-3-1998.html' title='march 3, 1998'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-5185092534557699426</id><published>2009-04-04T22:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T22:50:23.850-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='confusion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustration'/><title type='text'>"frustration"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;twisted innards&lt;br /&gt;               spin around a&lt;br /&gt;knotted gut&lt;br /&gt;and jumbled&lt;br /&gt;brain,&lt;br /&gt;mish mosh&lt;br /&gt;floating everywhere,&lt;br /&gt;tangled feelings&lt;br /&gt;intertwined, wrapped&lt;br /&gt;around the soul,&lt;br /&gt;thoughts are tight,&lt;br /&gt;never-ending turmoil,&lt;br /&gt;never changing&lt;br /&gt;rearranging&lt;br /&gt;all confused,&lt;br /&gt;what's the&lt;br /&gt;              use,&lt;br /&gt;cannot sort if&lt;br /&gt;               out,&lt;br /&gt;make it leave,&lt;br /&gt;consumes the&lt;br /&gt;very essence&lt;br /&gt;of my being&lt;br /&gt;turn it over&lt;br /&gt;and over&lt;br /&gt;again try&lt;br /&gt;to melt away&lt;br /&gt;the knots&lt;br /&gt;of frustration.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-5185092534557699426?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/5185092534557699426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/frustration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/5185092534557699426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/5185092534557699426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/04/frustration.html' title='&quot;frustration&quot;'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-6111348401315699084</id><published>2009-03-29T21:23:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T22:25:18.766-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>passage.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;if someone would have told me that when i finally left him i would struggle with my feelings for him, i would have laughed in their face! when i was with him i hated him and wanted my freedom. no, not all the time. not even most of the time, especially in the early years. but the last six years we were together were the most difficult. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;if i want to be fair, he probably couldn't stand being with me as much as i couldn't stand being with him.  i was not a very nice person after a while. while i do not blame myself for his volatile and violent outbursts, i take full responsibility for the times i fed his cycle of violence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;i am sorry for the times i made him feel less than a man. i am certain that without my verbal commentary on the matter, this was something he already struggled with. i am aware of the abuses and pains he was dealt as a child. the lack of validation from his father.  his father an alcoholic and his mother cheated.  thus the beginnings of his demons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;if not for my faith, i would have handled my life with him in a very different manner. i craved his attention, used to beg him for it. it would have been easy to seek out the same consolation that his mother did were it not for the moral code i chose to live by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;time after time i would beg god to help me love him, soften my heart to his pain and struggles. and he would. i wanted james to know that i saw the good that he could be, not just the ugliness. my heart used to hurt for him. if nothing else, i can say that i loved him and always will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;i know i said i hated him, but that was just my pain talking. when i am removed from that pain i am forced to remember the things that were good. the things that made me laugh, made me want to be with him.  it is so true when they say you always want what you can't have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;however, it is no longer about what i can't have, it is about safety. i can see the truths, i can see the pains, i can see the goodness, i can see and understand the demons, i can see my part in the cycles, BUT, i cannot make him see or deal with anything he chooses not to. and no matter how much i beg god to "fix it", he has given us free will to choose to be "fixed".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;it has not been easy leaving. not for the obvious reasons like finances, but for the emotional ones.  the scars may run deep, but my love for him ran deep as well.  i took him back so many times because i beleived he would, believed he wanted to change.  but i cannot hold on to that any longer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;for too long i lived in the dream of what i wanted our marriage to be and now i must let all that go.  now i must forge a life without him.  whatever my future holds, it will no longer hold him.  i am still dealing with feelings of anger, jealousy and pain. when they seek to drag me down into my ugliness, i take a moment to pray for him and the woman he lives with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;the time has come for me to end this chapter, once and for all, and begin writing the new one.  in letting go of my old life, my hands become free to embrace my new life.  and part of that life is sharing my story, and me, to others who are hurting and struggling. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;this blog will be filled with my past, but only as a tool for the task i feel has been laid out before me. it will also be filled with my present and my future.  life is good, and today i am at peace. today i see that it is time to take that passage....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-6111348401315699084?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/6111348401315699084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/passage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/6111348401315699084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/6111348401315699084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/passage.html' title='passage.....'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-6745104656091410799</id><published>2009-03-23T22:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T23:01:10.306-04:00</updated><title type='text'>who i am........</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;yes, i am a survivor, that goes without saying. breast cancer AND domestic violence.  what's really weird, is that dealing with breast cancer was so much easier than dealing with my marriage.  i can honestly say that the disruption cancer has caused me can't begin to compare to the absolute chaos caused by living in a violent relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am mother, daughter, sister, aunt and friend. i take all of these titles seriously. i carry the burdens of my friends because i love them. my children are a blessing from God. i am grounded in life because of my parents. i am never alone because of those who call me sister. i am surrounded by the youthful energy of my nieces and my nephews.  what more could a person ask for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am a complex creature full of idiosyncrasies and paradoxes.  i embrace all of the parts of me and am in the process of pulling them back together. it is exciting to find those areas that have been buried for so long.  buried for too long.  i travel the path less taken and make no apologies for doing so. i am conservative and yet love to embrace my non-compliant side!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am a person of faith who believes in a savior who loved me enough to give his life for mine. oh yeah, did i mention i am NOT politically correct? i don't consider myself to be religious at all, but my life is structured around a belief system that will never be shaken by the complications of daily living.  it is the opposite i find to be true, the complications of my life have strengthened my belief system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i could go on and on......but then what would i blog about! as this blog progresses, so will i. and in time we will all know more about who i am........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-6745104656091410799?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/6745104656091410799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-i-am.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/6745104656091410799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/6745104656091410799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/who-i-am.html' title='who i am........'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-8052383474158332534</id><published>2009-03-18T22:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T22:49:52.094-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>July 27, 2004</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;i am trying to find a reason to salvage my marriage.  after 14 years i am trying to figure out what contributions, sacrifices, what part you play in this family other than bringing home a paycheck.  let's see-you dictate how and what we can watch on tv, how loud we can be, where we are and aren't allowed to sit and we are expected to make you happy all the while pretending we actually like doing it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;you have no desire to comprehend the family bills or to  make sure you do whatever it takes to get them paid.  you want cable, computers, videos etc. regardless of what we don't pay to have them. you have given to me and the children things we won't ever loose, like scares and pain we never deserved. numerous items have been destroyed that can never be replaced and memories that we wish we could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;i can't even say you've showered any of us with love and affection because you are not capable of loving anyone, not even yourself.  you are very good at satisfying your own selfish needs and wants while we are left unfulfilled. our children needed a father and all they've gotten is a person who wants them out of his way and quiet so he can hear the tv, play his video games or sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;i have to muster up all that i can to try and feel anything for you other than disgust. i believed in you, i saw all that you were capable of becoming, but as i grew i realized that you did not see or feel these things for yourself.  all you can do is stay stagnant in the place you have been since your teen years. you fail to grow because you fail to be accountable for yourself or your actions. excuses, excuses, excuses!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;i have grown tired of your violent, hateful, controlling, temper tantrums. i am done with this marriage and i am done with you-it is just a matter of time. no more chances, they are all long gone and one day i will be too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-8052383474158332534?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/8052383474158332534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/july-27-2004.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/8052383474158332534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/8052383474158332534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/july-27-2004.html' title='July 27, 2004'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-8369703468305584169</id><published>2009-03-16T21:54:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T07:55:18.306-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>August 6, 2005</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;what is normal? what is love? what is life? what happens when dysfunction is the norm, hate masks as love and death imitates life?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;most days i think that my "life" "love" and "normalcy" are what i have created them to be.  they are the self made fantasy in my mind to keep me sane. what is real is that i am still here. what is normal is that i don't want to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want so badly to feel love and to be loved, but i hate him. hate the distance between us. hate the violence he denies exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;white picket fences and a lush green lawn are not what i craved, but family dinners and laughter, cuddles on the couch after the kids had gone to bed. what i got instead are the vivid pictures of your face in mine with that shark eyed look as you proceed to scream at me how you are going to hurt me. could you feel the fear seething out of my pores?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel so much just lingers beneath the surface of my contempt and loathing. there are times i just want to reach out and hold you, but i remember past rejections and don't. i remember all the names you've called me. all the ways you've hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i yearn for us to have a "good" life, but you don't believe you deserve anything that is "good". i can almost feel the battle within you rage-until it reaches your surface and then is evident for all to see in the wake of destruction you leave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-8369703468305584169?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/8369703468305584169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/august-6-2005.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/8369703468305584169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/8369703468305584169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/august-6-2005.html' title='August 6, 2005'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-2452090149368995113</id><published>2009-03-13T21:48:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T22:54:02.447-04:00</updated><title type='text'>today........</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;i never thought i could feel like this. actually feel something other than the three dominant emotions that have ruled in me for so long.  i knew i did once. but it's been so long i was afraid they were buried too deep to find. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pain, anger, bitterness.  not a complicated process mind you. the pain is unbearable so cover it with anger. being angry for so long only caused it to grow into bitterness. after a while, it was "just pass pain go directly to anger, do not collect hope". my own vicious cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course i felt love, i love my children more than my own life. everything became about protecting them and giving them stability in a volatile home.  i love my family, they are my foundation. i love god, he is my rock and my savior. i loved James, he was everything i thought i ever wanted. and i wanted him more than anything ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but then i couldn't even feel love for him anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with the separation came the hope that i would heal. bring together all of the fragments that are me.  especially my emotions. but it did not occur to me that these things take time. the 20 year journey to get to this point was not going to be unwound in a year.  okay we gained some ground here, now i was impatient. progress? maybe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but this week has brought a breakthrough of sorts. i have been overwhelmed by a rush of hope, peace, joy, strength and low and behold i realized an amazing thing! i feel content. i feel happy. they aren't dead and gone! can the healing really be taking place? my emotions live and so do i, even if just for today........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-2452090149368995113?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/2452090149368995113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/2452090149368995113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/2452090149368995113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/today.html' title='today........'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-272165437187695017</id><published>2009-03-11T20:37:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T20:47:26.563-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bitterness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>July 25, 2002</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;i am violated by your violence.&lt;br /&gt;i choke on your wrath that i am forced to swallow.&lt;br /&gt;my nostrils are filled with the stench of your weakness.&lt;br /&gt;my soul is pierced by the bitterness you thrust at me, over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;i will no longer allow this ritualistic rape of my emotions to be my destruction for i have let them die.&lt;br /&gt;the shell i have become moves amongst the living but does not join them.&lt;br /&gt;it hurts too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-272165437187695017?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/272165437187695017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/july-25-2002.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/272165437187695017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/272165437187695017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/july-25-2002.html' title='July 25, 2002'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-7369961139546379090</id><published>2009-03-09T15:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T12:23:08.155-04:00</updated><title type='text'>initiation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;my initiation into the world of domestic violence occured 20 years ago.  i can still see the chaos as if it happened only yesterday.  but then again, it's only been a year and 3 months since the last eyewitness to a breaking spree that was of course, my fault.  one restraining order later, and i will not be the cause of them anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the tile was cool against my body.  the kitchen floor became my best friend that night offering it's unfailing support. it cradled me in my fetal position, while all i could do was sob and cry as if a death had occurred. and it did. that was the first time a piece of me died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how do you pick up a refrigerator that is lying on its side? i had no idea. but i tried. and tried. to this day i can't remember how the damn thing ended upright again. and where were the black garbage bags? every room in the house had been hit.  i just wanted to get it all cleaned up and back to normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;glass, clothes, overturned beds, broken dresser drawers, collectibles from shelves, shelves, pictures. the mess seemed endless and i wasn't sure i had enough of the leaf size bags to contain it all.  and where was he? oh yeah, a bar somewhere calling and telling me he was going to **** a woman. i cried and begged him to come home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of course he came home, drunk. by then life had been set back to a pre-damage state. but was it really? maybe for him, but i will bear the imprints of his carnage for the rest of my life. he just wanted to sleep. and don't i know if i just left him alone and shut my mouth i wouldn't have pushed him to do it. i hurt his feelings. sorry....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-7369961139546379090?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/7369961139546379090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/initiation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/7369961139546379090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/7369961139546379090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/initiation.html' title='initiation'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-3184546280065601549</id><published>2009-03-06T21:12:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T21:18:58.433-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorrow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='regret'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>last breath</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;if i were to take&lt;br /&gt;my last breath&lt;br /&gt;tonight&lt;br /&gt;what have i done&lt;br /&gt;with all the others-&lt;br /&gt;have they given&lt;br /&gt;me strength&lt;br /&gt;shared love&lt;br /&gt;caused pain-&lt;br /&gt;how many breaths&lt;br /&gt;were the cause&lt;br /&gt;of another's tears, fears&lt;br /&gt;did more comfort the&lt;br /&gt;days of those around&lt;br /&gt;me&lt;br /&gt;did i squander them&lt;br /&gt;on harsh words&lt;br /&gt;unfinished sentences&lt;br /&gt;full of unspoken feelings-&lt;br /&gt;if i were to take my&lt;br /&gt;last breath tonight&lt;br /&gt;were all of the other&lt;br /&gt;breaths worth it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-3184546280065601549?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/3184546280065601549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/last-breath.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/3184546280065601549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/3184546280065601549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/last-breath.html' title='last breath'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-2915408687086002820</id><published>2009-03-05T21:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T17:46:20.492-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>July 2001</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;it would be so easy to be like him. to allow myself to be controlled by the anger, allow it to become bitterness and finally to succumb to the banal rage of all that i loathe.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;anger is safe, it protects from the pain. the pain is unbearable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;. daily i must seek out the feelings that make me human.  i desperately cling to words, colors, phrases, songs that allow me to feel the things that i once felt. to just feel something other than anger. to feel me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;but who am i?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-2915408687086002820?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/2915408687086002820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/july-2001.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/2915408687086002820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/2915408687086002820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/july-2001.html' title='July 2001'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4647606626080411381.post-8361248240980251978</id><published>2009-03-04T23:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T17:49:03.063-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='domestic violence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>January 11, 1998</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: left; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;dear James:&lt;br /&gt;i wish i could make you feel the intense, overbearing, crushing sense of pressure i feel everyday.  i am like a rat scurrying around to make sure that everything is as perfect as i can make it. the impending explosion is building and nothing i do stops it from coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i pray, i try to be "happy" all the time, keep the kids quiet and out of the way, keep the house clean, prepare an acceptable dinner and yet it is never enough to stop the rampage from coming. i guess it's hard for me to face the fact that it's not my problem nor my fault. there needs to be accountability for these actions, a reason, so i will take that on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then afterwards, i must pick up the pieces and trudge forward. this is the most draining on me.  my emotional healing process is slower and slower after each "episode".  a piece of me dies every single time and re-grouping more difficult. except by the grace of god am i able to function. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is no one to talk to about what i think, what i feel, what i am going through except flo.  but even this is not enough to heal anymore.  i feel a festering emptiness that i cannot fill, a wound that just won't scab.  and yet i must smile and go on. always i must go on. i cry in private and do the best i can to live everyday. i have children that need to be cared for. i look to see the good in what i have, but only find a miserable existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel so alone.&lt;br /&gt;terri&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4647606626080411381-8361248240980251978?l=portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/feeds/8361248240980251978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/january-11-1998.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/8361248240980251978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4647606626080411381/posts/default/8361248240980251978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://portrait-of-abuse.blogspot.com/2009/03/january-11-1998.html' title='January 11, 1998'/><author><name>terri</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15415650579205762469</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_4g3JHqGD_uM/Sa9dHa5Z1-I/AAAAAAAAABM/Q0p0vghv-s0/S220/body+bag+image.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
