When we see people having fun, laughing, looking their best, we automatically think those people are perfect. Perfect life, significant others, and family however, we don't see behind the curtain.
More often than not there is something backstage; hidden from public view; that causes tremendous anguish and pain. In many cases this surreptitious entity is abuse in any form.
Mental or physical abuse can happen to anyone. Everyone has experienced some form of abuse from another person, but when it happens on a regular bases it causes hopelessness. The abused will equivocate instead of speaking out against the abuser.
The dysphoria an abused person feels is immense. The feeling of being trapped and poignancy makes slaves of the oppressed.
They become subservient; protecting the oppressor and elucidating the abuse. Sometimes this can lead to the death of oppressor or the oppressed.
Living with abuse is never easy. It changes you forever. It can make you strong or it can make you enfeebled. More often the latter.
I listen to stories from many of these people. Abused. Mental and physical. Most have had an oppressor since they can remember; an abuser; and as I sit here writing this I wonder how many other wonderfully happy people are feeling their anguish.
They explain in their own unique way, how several boyfriends, husbands and family members later they are still in the same vicissitude. The scenery changes, maybe the character's, but never the plot of their story.
In one conversation a person told me they thought God had a hatred for them they did not understand. They wondered if they were being punished for every mistake they had ever made. I explained to the grieving it was not God who would see you suffer but the Devil, and some people were easier to manipulate than others. You are the SOME. I asked the question; “Now what are you going to do about it?” Then after a short pause I exclaimed; “Gather your armor and fight.”
I listened as they told of partners chosen badly and thought of my own past relationships. They told me how they still chose those deplorable partners for marriage.
When dating you can see signs. Hints of what is to come. If you ignore them or miss them you are enmeshed. Caught in a web of pain that might have been avoided.
These people would love to tell you their husbands and wives are good. In fact some say just that; all the time. He works hard, provides a roof and fixes the vehicles. She a good mother. He/She pays the bills. They had a hard life and still they take care of us. He/She laughs around others and is polite and of course the most neurotic line I hear is he/she loves me. However, when they are at home or alone the animosity begins and sometimes children hear.
No matter how many stories I hear they all have one thing in common. They wonder what it would be like to live a truly happy life. They dream of a good spouse. Not the perfect one just a good one.
The people of my stories are growing older now. Funny how disquietude can change who you are. Looking at pictures I can see great change in all their faces. A sort of quiet repose in some and drawn dignity in others.
The deprivation and bereavement they feel are like close friends. The anguish when they apologize for actions not their own or of their own doing evokes vacuousness. The perfidy of the relationship for the oppressed, as well as the subjugation is demoralizing . All grieving find it hard to alleviate the problem.
Once again they have led themselves to cede who they could have been. Instead, they acquiesce to their totalitarian because for most there is no money of their own to leave. They succumb to the pain of knowing that due to their predicament their will not be a job for them anytime in the near future and at their age it's getting more unlikely they will ever see one. Funny how something so small as money can mean life or death to so many people.